


Gentlemen's Agreement

by Jaye_Voy



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, M/M, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-23
Updated: 2016-02-07
Packaged: 2018-05-15 18:04:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 109,378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5794414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jaye_Voy/pseuds/Jaye_Voy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An alien royal makes Chakotay an offer he can't refuse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written in 2002. Although there are some tweaks, the story's contents (and its flaws) are mostly intact. This is NC-17 for adult themes, sex, violence, and language.  
> Slightly AU, P/T never happened and I don't know how canon Chakotay dresses off duty. Chakotay's 39, Tom 30.
> 
> Star Trek, Voyager and all related characters and concepts are the property of Paramount. No infringement is intended or profit made.

/He's hopeless, absolutely hopeless./ Kathryn Janeway watched her First Officer move along the edges of the reception hall. Even as she admired Chakotay's panther-like grace, she gritted her teeth at his attire.

The Captain had been filled with an unholy glee when she'd read the "No Uniforms, Please" addendum to the invitation from their Rutali hosts. It meant a new battlefield in the private little war that had started the day Chakotay signed on as Voyager's First Officer.

As they'd worked together on Ocampa to find their missing crewmates, Kathryn had taken time to check out her fellow Captain's powerful body encased in Maquis leather. When they formally allied, she'd looked forward to seeing Chakotay clad in Starfleet's close-fitting red and black. She was in for a shock.

Although everything was within regulation, Kathryn had been immensely disappointed to see that her new Commander had altered the uniform specs. Instead of the body-hugging garments she'd expected, he'd set the replicator to reflect the loosest tailoring available. While the outfit wasn't actually baggy, it was definitely *not* molding those delectable muscles. Her eyes had narrowed as she scrutinized the man.

Chakotay had noticed her careful examination, and while she was crafting a polite but unenthusiastic remark he'd fired the opening salvo. His expression completely blank, he'd calmly stated, "I agreed to share the bridge as your First Officer, Captain, not another piece of eye candy."

A guilty, mortified blush had plastered her cheeks. She'd breathed in to deliver a blistering reply when Chakotay had suddenly relaxed and flashed those to-die-for dimples for the first time. "Besides," he'd drawled, "you already have a blond and two brunets. Shouldn't a redhead be next on your list?" They'd chuckled together and a new command team was born.

Since then they'd continued the game. Chakotay sported loose-fitting attire both on and off duty. Kathryn tried to get him into more flattering garb (or out of it). After their return from New Earth the unresolved attraction between them mellowed into friendship, but she still considered it her duty to give as many people as possible a glimpse of his considerable assets. Unfortunately, the wily ex-rebel frustrated her at every turn.

The Rutali reception seemed a perfect opportunity. Chakotay, no doubt, had already prepared his disgustingly roomy formal uniform. Kathryn had watched the Commander's reaction as she'd outlined the newly delivered dress code for the event. Chakotay had caught her avid expression and tossed back his serene Mona Lisa smile. Now she knew why.

"Score another one for the Maquis," a laughing voice breathed in Kathryn's ear as suit-jacketed arms wrapped around her silk-clad waist. She turned to take in the rest of her lover's outfit. Ken Dalby was dressed in tailored black slacks and a button-down shirt with a burgundy blazer, which nicely complemented her own claret-colored sleeveless sheath. "It's nice to know at least one man will dress up for me," she sighed dramatically, stroking his lapels.

"I would rather undress for you, Kathryn," he said, eyes twinkling. He gave her a quick kiss, then spun her around. He leaned down again to whisper in her ear. "Besides, three out of four isn't bad. Tuvok's robes are clingy enough when he moves, and Kim and Paris are wearing matching tight jeans and 'Come and get it' silk shirts." He caressed her bare arms. "All this male pulchritude, Kathryn, and you pout over Chakotay? Maybe I should be worried."

Kathryn leaned back and looked into his grinning face. "I can tell you're shaking in your shoes." She let the back of her hand run slowly down Ken's chest, then turned to once more stand directly in front of him. Sure her action was hidden, she casually swung her arm down and behind to lightly cup his linen-clad genitals. 

Her face didn't betray any reaction to his sudden gasp as she quietly purred, "There's only one package of 'pulchritude' I'm interested in and you know it." She loosed her grip and swung around to search Ken's eyes. "You do know that, right?"

Ken smiled. "Yes, but I'm always glad to hear it." He caressed her cheek. "You're so beautiful, and you and Chakotay do have a history."

She gave him a tender, lopsided smile. "Not a romantic one. But I'll always be grateful to him for bringing us together." She laid her palm against the hand on her face. "I just want him to have someone special too."

"And you think clothes will make the man...more appealing?" Ken shook his head with a rueful smile. "Well, you've definitely lost this skirmish. It's time to retreat."

"For now," Kathryn admitted, and pulled her lover to the dance floor to show that this girl was crazy about a sharp-dressed man.

*************

Tom Paris sipped his fruity drink and tried to shake the suspicion he was being stalked. He had to admit the Rutali made it easy to feel like prey. When they'd initially appeared on Voyager's viewscreen, Tom immediately recalled the first time he'd seen "The Wizard of Oz." Their new acquaintances bore a marked resemblance to the Cowardly Lion.

The Rutali were tall, their skin covered with a short golden plush. The flat noses, slightly slanted eyes and sharply bisected upper lips reinforced the feline impression. And both sexes were crowned with thick tawny hair that framed their faces like lions' manes.

Tom spun, trying to glimpse the pair of eyes he could feel burning holes in his back. He didn't spot anyone, but his abrupt movement had caught the First Officer's attention. A quirked eyebrow relayed Chakotay's silent query. Tom felt himself blush slightly as he sheepishly shrugged reassurance. Chakotay shot him a puzzled look and moved on.

Tom realized the Captain had been thwarted yet again as he watched the Commander make his way to a quiet corner. He idly considered breaking Janeway's losing streak by clueing her in on the legend of Chakotay's Wash Day Leathers.

The body-hugging ensemble Chakotay had worn that first trip aboard Voyager had been a gift from Seska. Tom had disliked the sneaky then-Bajoran, but he gave the woman credit for persuading her ex-lover to accept the clingy clothes in a show of team spirit. Of course, Chakotay had rarely worn them. Since he had other Maquis outfits, he only put on Seska's when he had absolutely nothing else in his closet. After the Liberty's crew figured that out, Chakotay's refresher became the most unreliable piece of equipment on the ship.

/But it *was* a guaranteed morale-booster. Hell, half the people playing Tuvok's holodeck mutiny scenario that time were there for another chance to check out the Commander's goods./ Tom grinned in memory.

/Damn!/ His good humor disappeared as he felt those eyes again. He reviewed his own revealing outfit and wondered if the Big Man had the right idea. Certainly no one would take Chakotay's shapeless caftan and loose pants as an invitation to stare. Add in the muted colors and subtle pattern, and the First Officer was practically dressed in camouflage.

Tom had come to the party hoping to get lucky, but his secret admirer was giving him the creeps. Deciding to find some cover of his own, Tom went on his own hunt for Harry. There should be some safety in numbers.

***********

/Excellent,/ thought the Rutali Regent, Nedal, as he stood on the balcony above the vaulted, chandeliered, white marble-and-gilt reception hall on a Rutali colony world. The golden-haired human pilot had startled at Nedal's scrutiny like a goband at a water hole. Now he fled with the cloven-hoofed animal's airy grace to seek security among others of his kind.

The Rutali royal idly stroked his jeweled seal of office and tracked the human with slitted golden eyes, homing in on his prey's new company. The shorter, dark-haired human looked younger than the blond, and offered no more than an illusion of protection. The Regent licked his lips with a low growl as he moved away from the railing, intending to set in motion the ritual to claim his newly chosen territory.

************

Chakotay deftly wove among crewmates and Rutali, keeping an eye on the drinks in his hands. He pondered Paris's odd jumpiness and gave a mental grin at the memory of Kathryn's earlier horrified expression. She really should know better by now.

He glanced down at his ankle-length buttoned tunic, which practically hid his matching pants. The desert-inspired outfit was actually very similar to Tuvok's attire. Only the Vulcan's robes were crafted from the traditional silk and his from lightweight cotton. The loose folds billowed slightly outward when he walked instead of molding to his body like Tuvok's did.

He offered an apologetic expression with the drink he handed to his waiting companion. "I'm sorry I took so long, Milady. There was quite an obstacle course."

"No problem at all, Commander. I was just sitting here enjoying the scenery." The elderly Rutali woman was curious what Chakotay would say if he knew *he* was the one she'd been watching.

She'd seen many fine-faced males and females from Voyager, even a few wild young ones on the prowl. Out of all of the aliens she'd met in the last few days, this man was unique. A paradox. Chakotay was one of the few among his kind who moved like her people, with an alert air and coiled power that spoke of a fellow predator. And yet, he also exuded gentleness and a genuine aura of peace---qualities her people secretly craved yet despised as the ancient hallmarks of prey.  
The Rutali had never managed such a balance in their natures. It made the handsome, night-haired human endlessly fascinating.

She laid a hand on his arm, feeling the muscles hidden under the loose cloth. "You are kind to have wasted your evening entertaining an old woman."

Chakotay shook his head. "I don't consider it a waste. You have been a most charming companion, Milady." As his eyes fell on the gold-and-crystal seal of office encircling her neck, he remembered an unasked question. "Is that term a name, or a title of some kind?"

She offered a small smile. "After so many years, it has become both. I rejected the traditional form of address when I first attained my position."

She leaned forward with a serious expression. "And now a question for you: Are the reports true, you have wandered far from your home and hunting grounds?"

Chakotay nodded and sighed. "Almost forty years away. It was originally seventy, but we've had a few lucky breaks. Nothing recently, though."

Milady tilted her head and regarded the human a moment. "Perhaps your luck will change." She gave another enigmatic smile, then waved Chakotay away. "Now I insist you mingle. I'm sure there are many people still awaiting a chance to meet you."

Chakotay chuckled, "Perhaps one or two. I'll bid you good night then." He rose, gallantly kissed her hand and melted into the crowd.

Milady stared after him, then summoned a page with a flick of her wrist. "Get Nedal," she ordered the cub, then sat back to finish her drink and finalize her plans.

*****************

Sisryn drummed her fingers on the surface of her temporary desk. She was bored, and didn't think Nedal's imminent arrival would alleviate her condition. Still, her duties as Chief Consul were quite clearly outlined, and she had never failed yet in her service.

/If only Nedal weren't so damn *selfish*,/ she mentally growled. /There's more at stake here than his whims. Doesn't he realize how much could be riding on this?/

She started when one half of the set of massive wooden doors flew open, banging so hard against the wall the panel still had enough momentum to slam shut. The Regent was oblivious, furiously stalking to and fro in front of the desk. Sisryn rose cautiously to greet him, taking care to stay out of range.

Nedal's claws were retracting and emerging spasmodically, a clear sign that he was losing control.

"How *could* she," he roared, pausing a moment to glare at his Consul. "I made my choice. Then she summoned me like one of her pages, stopped me practically at your threshold."

Sisryn's voice was a respectful, soothing purr. "I don't understand, my liege. Do you speak of the human Captain? I thought their acceptance of Larat was assured."

"No, not her, but you're right---they're desperate enough. The ritual is practically guaranteed. However," Nedal snarled, "the identity of the Chosen is not. Milady has informed me---me, the Regent!---that *she* has decided who is to hear the offer." He turned again, robes snapping in his wake. "The pilot Tom Paris looked a prime catch. But Milady has no interest in *him.* Her favor is bestowed upon the marked one---the First Officer."

"Chakotay?" Sisryn's whole body snapped to attention. "And Milady has made the choice? That has not happened in generations."

The eagerness in his minister's voice paused Nedal's pacing. His nostrils flared as he scented excitement---and perhaps something else. The Regent approached with a menacing gait, his voice a low rumble. "I sense...approval, Sisryn. Have you forgotten whom it is you serve? Tell me why you so rejoice at my displeasure." He used his height and bulk to loom over her more slender form.

"I mean no disrespect, Regent," Sisryn quickly said, bowing her submission. "It is ever my duty to fulfill my liege's wishes." She looked up to meet Nedal's eyes. "But your position is only as strong as others' perception of you. Your predecessors ignored that truth to their destruction."

She moved behind her desk to reverently touch a book and box, both elaborately decorated. "You must remember the Larat serves the Regent in many ways. If you select a man or woman who is much desired, the price of Privilege increases and so does your standing among the prides."

"Tom Paris will make me the envy of all," Nedal stated, chest swelling with pride.

"Only among those who wish to curry favor, my liege." Sisryn knew she took her life in her hands delivering the truth so bluntly. "The court feigns interest, knowing when they saw Voyager's crew that there was only one question: whether you would want your blond hot or cold. The pride leaders are set to make their bids based on what they want from you, *not* their desire for Paris or the Voyager Borg."

Nedal sheathed his claws, absently noting Sisryn stopped her anxious fidgeting as he considered her words. He knew the Regent's seal he wore guaranteed him the Chief Consul's loyalty. He also appreciated her fine sense of the prevailing political winds. His voice was merely curious as he asked, "And this...Chakotay, what do I gain if he becomes the Larat?"

"Money and power in far greater measure. Paris---and the one called Seven, your other likely candidate---are beautiful, but typical. They are, in the end, mere prey." Sisryn's hands lifted in a helpless gesture. "Chakotay is different, though I cannot explain why. I do know, however, that if he accepts you will be the envy of the prides and Privilege will be bestowed on *your* terms."

The Chief Consul moved closer, hoping the stubborn Regent had calmed enough to awaken his instinct for survival. "And that Milady has chosen...that is the stuff of legend. It could ensure your reign, for no one would dare seek to overthrow a living legend."

Nedal lifted his chin, in charge once more. "So be it."

*****************

The Captain and Commander entered the Chief Consul's office, curious as to why they'd been summoned in the middle of a party. 

Sisryn moved from behind her desk, greeting the humans and motioning them to the sofa and chairs by a low table. As they were seated, she asked, "Do you require anything before we begin? A beverage, perhaps?" The Rutali's air of suppressed excitement was at odds with her calm question.

"No, thank you. Your hospitality has already been most generous." Kathryn took the lead. "Is there a problem with the trade arrangements? I don't understand why you asked to see the Commander and myself."

Sisryn clasped her hands together to steady them, then looked at the duo waiting across from her. "My people have listened with much interest to your stories of travel. We sympathize with the pain you must feel at the separation from your kin and homelands."

Chakotay spoke into her pause. "And you have a suggestion, maybe a way of lessening that separation?"

"Perhaps. Near the Rutali homeworld is a stable, but variable, wormhole. The entrance is fixed, but the exit changes depending on circumstances."

Kathryn had moved to the edge of her seat. "Explain."

"For Rutali, the endpoint is always the same: a cluster of colony worlds five years' travel from here. For strangers, the situation is somewhat different."

Sisryn stood and circled her chair, carefully considering her words. "Permission to use the portal is rarely offered, and comes at a price." She paused. "How well outsiders meet that price determines how far the wormhole takes them. The distance can be as short as one year's worth of travel or as long as fifteen."

Kathryn’s brows lifted. "So your wormhole could deposit us 15 years closer to home?"

"Or barely a year," Chakotay reminded his captain. "Either way, the price is the same." He noted Sisryn's discomfort with narrowed eyes. "Just what will the trip cost us?"

Sisryn fled the weight of that measuring gaze, moving to her desk to retrieve the book and box resting upon it. She slowly approached the pair. "For this the Rutali do not accept goods in trade, but service. One member of the group petitioning for the use of the wormhole is chosen. He or she must pledge to serve the Regent. That person becomes the Larat, and wears the seal of that office."

She sat and opened the carved box, lifting out a necklace similar to the other ministers' emblems, including her own. It was a thick circlet of metal the shade of antique gold, and a clear crystal hung suspended from it in a setting vaguely reminiscent of claws. "Once Larat has been accepted, the seal is worn at all times. It will not open until the term of service is complete."

"How long is that?" Kathryn asked, now more wary.

"That cannot be predetermined. It is never shorter than a week or longer than a month. When the time is right, the Larat's necklace opens and the Chosen is free to leave. You enter the wormhole, and travel through it in your desired direction. How far, however, won't be known until you exit. Also, after the portal closes behind you it will not reopen, so you have only one chance."

Chakotay frowned. "And if we say no now, we won't get another opportunity to change our minds." Sisryn's nod didn't lessen Chakotay's tension; he wanted to know what was making him so edgy. "What exactly is the nature of this office? How does the Larat 'serve' the Regent?"

Sisryn laid aside the necklace and picked up the book. She then braved a look into those intense brown eyes. "All the responsibilities of the Larat are outlined in this tome, which has been passed down for generations. After accepting Larat, the Chosen is given time to review the text and prepare. Traditionally, there are also five services that can be refused without penalty. Not even the Regent can order an act performed that has been set aside under the seal."

The Rutali paused, then continued more slowly. "When I was informed that Larat would be offered to a member of Voyager's crew, I investigated your databases for an equivalent in your culture. The closest term I can find is courtesan."

Kathryn sat back in shock. "We need more details. Courtesan can mean many things, from mere ornament to whore." 

"No, not whore, captain. But a courtesan in your full sense of the word." Sisryn leaned forward. "Larat are held in high esteem and treated as such. And their duties extend beyond the bedroom, as they become the official representatives for their group among the Rutali. Their ability to please the Regent is not limited to sex alone, it is also how well the Chosen can express his or her own culture and beliefs."

"Who is it that Nedal has selected for this 'honor'?" Chakotay's sharp gaze caught the guilty flick of the Chief Consul's eyes. He hoped he was wrong as he gasped, "Kathryn? But---"

Thinking of Ken, Kathryn also jumped in, "I'm already involved---"

"You are in error. Captain, you are here as a courtesy, as leader of your people. Larat is being offered," she pointed at Chakotay, "to *him*."

The two Voyager officers stared at each other in stunned silence.

****************

Chakotay found his voice first. "You're lying," he said flatly.

Sisryn was stunned. /Milady's perceptions are as clear as always; he is a man of rare insight./ "How---How did you know?"

Kathryn also sent a skeptical glance his way. Chakotay spread his hands. "Nedal is not interested in me. Your Regent has barely been able to feign polite interest the two times we met. He would never select me as a bedmate." 

Chakotay decided to play his hunch. "You said Larat were held in high esteem. That means politics are involved. So, Consul, who's really running the show?"

The Rutali's shoulders slumped in defeat. "You're right. Regents can rise or fall on the desirability of their Chosen. Nedal is expected to pick..." she hesitated, "...well, his preference for blonds is well known." She caught the quick speaking glance between the officers. In that split second they had probably done a mental inventory of their light-haired crew.

"But they wouldn't be as 'desirable' as me?" Chakotay gave a disbelieving laugh. "You must be kidding."

Sisryn was deadly serious now. "No, I'm not. Although I cannot put the reasons into words, you hold far more value to us than any of your shipmates." Now she was measuring *them* with her gaze.

"Nedal is the third Regent I've served in my time as Consul, and his choosing you could secure his reign and bring us some long-term stability." She waved her hand. "Well, to be more precise, his allowing Milady to choose you. That is nearly unheard of; she has distanced herself from these matters for decades."

Chakotay sighed and shifted topics. "Is Nedal married or bonded in any way?"

Sisryn gave him another long look; in her time as Consul this man was the first Chosen to concern himself about such things. "No, he has not mated. His reign is still too new to single out a pride by choosing a wife from them."

Chakotay shifted in his seat. "And you are sure we are...physically compatible?"

Sisryn nodded. "Yes, we knew that before we granted shore leave. Your doctor suspected that certain members of your crew would indulge."

"Is there a ceremony involved with acceptance---"

"Chakotay! What do you think you're doing?" Kathryn would prefer this conversation in private, but stopping Chakotay held priority at the moment.

He turned to meet his friend and captain's eyes. "Getting us a ticket into that wormhole."

Kathryn shook her head. "But I can't expect you to---"

"Kathryn, please." Chakotay laid a reassuring hand on her arm. "You can't order me to do this, so I'm volunteering. You know how depressed the crew was before we met up with these people. There hasn't been a big jump in a long time---they're starting to lose hope."

He searched her eyes. "Though I'm no longer *their* Captain, I still am one, and I want to get them home as badly as you do." 

Chakotay flashed a small, rueful smile. "You know it's what I have to do, right? You would have accepted Larat if you'd been chosen, despite how much you love Ken." He shrugged. "I have even less reason to refuse."

The Captain warred with the Friend. As a friend she knew how Chakotay felt about casual sex and how much this could hurt him; as a captain needing to get her crew closer to home, she acknowledged that there really was no other choice. "If you're sure," she finally said.

Sisryn rose and gestured for the others to do likewise. "There is no special ceremony. The moment you put on the necklace, the office and title are yours."

Chakotay took the proffered piece of metal. It felt strangely warm as he snapped the clasp closed. Both he and the Captain were surprised to see the link dissolve, leaving a solid circlet.

Sisryn bowed to the new Larat. "You may display or cover the seal as you choose among your own people, but when Rutali are present the circlet must show." She handed him the ornately bound book. "Place your hand on the center design for a minute before opening this, and the text will alter to your language."

She led the way to the door. "It will take about a week to reach Ruta and the wormhole; use that time to prepare however you wish. Nedal will probably ignore you, for you do not begin the duties of Larat until we reach the homeworld."

As the trio moved into the hall, the music and laughter reminded them that the party still flourished. The realization seemed to startle them out of their isolation. Sisryn stopped them a moment. "Why don't you return to your ship? The news of your acceptance will begin to circulate among the prides, and I think it would be better if you had a chance to absorb this before facing them."

Kathryn and Chakotay nodded and watched as she left. "Thank you, Chakotay," she said with a quick press of his arm. Then she tapped her badge and ordered a beamout.

Chakotay took a moment to peek into the book. He was shocked at the graphic---no, pornographic---illustration. /Spirits!/ was all he had time to think before the transporter took him.


	2. Chapter 2

/This is hopeless, absolutely hopeless./ Chakotay put his head in his hands and sighed, painfully aware of the weight of the crystal resting just below his collarbone. In the last two hours he'd come to the sobering conclusion that he was going to fail. At pleasing Nedal. At being the Larat. At getting Voyager closer to home.

He had almost immediately sent the Captain back down to the party and Ken. They'd quickly agreed not to mention the wormhole to the crew until they could craft an innocent explanation for the Commander's involvement. They would simply announce that the Rutali had invited Voyager to travel from this colony to Ruta, the aliens' homeworld, a rare honor. 

Kathryn had told Chakotay to schedule himself as much time off as he needed and reserved a holodeck for his exclusive use. When she told him to "take whoever he wanted" to help him prepare, they'd both blushed.

When the awkward moment passed, Chakotay suggested the Captain return to the festivities to keep her ears open for references to the Larat. In truth, he knew his old friend was down on the planet missing Kathryn every moment she was gone. Chakotay wanted the lovers to take advantage of this rare opportunity to just enjoy each other's company. And for that, he knew Kathryn needed a clear conscience.

Now, alone in his cabin after paging through the Rutali equivalent of the Kama Sutra, he realized he was completely out of his depth. After he'd laid his hand on the tome, the text had not only altered to Federation Standard, but the contents had also adjusted to reflect a male-male relationship. The "duties" within were described in detail and illustrated, but much of it involved a type of sex Chakotay was completely unfamiliar with.

He had never had a male lover. Not that there hadn't been offers. But he'd never been interested in one-night stands, even at the Academy. Unfortunately, that was all his potential male partners had ever wanted.

Which left him a 39-year-old sort-of virgin responsible for 150 people whose immediate futures depended solely on his untried ability to satisfy a male lover. One that didn't even find him attractive.

Chakotay's mind wandered to Nedal's real choice, Tom Paris. *He* was probably familiar with every technique in the book. The lively blond had acquired and discarded several dozen paramours, both male and female, in their four years on Voyager. What impressed Chakotay most about the record wasn't the number of partners, but the fact that Tom remained on good terms with every one of his exes after the affairs ended. Some, like Harry, stayed good friends while others drifted away to different social circles. But not one of them ever held a grudge for being dumped by the handsome pilot. And Chakotay had never heard any complaints about the time spent in Paris's bed. 

He unfocused gaze remained on the gilt-edged pages as his fingers idly stroked the Rutali crystal. A plan was beginning to take shape in Chakotay's mind.

***************

Tom plopped down on his couch, thoroughly disgusted. An unavoidable side effect of being horny and frustrated. Horny because he hadn't had real sex in more than three months, and frustrated because his plans to arrange a romp in a comely Rutali's bed had been spoiled by his anonymous watcher. The eyes had released him soon after he'd joined Harry, but the uncharacteristic unease had kept him by his friend's side the rest of the evening. Which left Tom with an incipient hard-on and nowhere to put it.

Tom sighed and vaguely rubbed at his groin, trying to decide whether to start trolling for a fuck buddy or just jerk off and go to bed. He gave up on both ideas when he couldn't think of a suitable partner.

That jaded sense of "been there, done that" was part of the reason he'd been alone since ending it with Seven. After he'd bagged the Borg (who had a beautiful bod but not much more in common), there really wasn't anyone left on his list. The crew he hadn't already slept with either weren't interested in him or he wasn't interested in them. His only choices lately were crafting a lover on the holodeck (too mechanical), restarting an old affair (too dangerous), or hooking up with a member of a friendly species. The Rutali had fit the bill, until the Peeping Tom or Tammy had spoiled things.

Tom was still idly debating whether to move to the bedroom or just crash on the couch when his chime rang. He hurriedly straightened his clothes and ran a hand through his hair as he made his way to the door. /Luck, be a lady tonight,/ he prayed, /or at least my kind of guy./

When the entrance opened to admit Chakotay, Tom concluded that Luck had already departed for a date somewhere on the planet. The Commander paused just inside the threshold, clutching a satchel and shuffling with uncharacteristic nervousness. He cleared his throat a few times but didn't say anything.

Tom decided to push things along a little. Even if he wasn't doing anything special with his time, there was no reason to waste it waiting on his XO. "To what do I owe this honor, Commander?"

"Paris, um, Tom, do you mind if we sit down?" At the other man's nod, Chakotay felt his fingers reaching to touch the seal hidden under his tunic as if it were a talisman. He hastily dropped his hand and perched on the edge of the sofa seat. /Spirits, give me strength./ He cleared his throat one more time and looked at his puzzled host. "I have a...proposition for you."

Tom was shocked at how his ears---and everything else---perked up at the innocent phrase. *That* made no sense. Tom had decidedly stuck Chakotay in the "Look But Don't Touch" category years ago. And it wasn't like the Commander was sending him a come-hither glance or even a sly wink of innuendo. Frankly, the man looked like he was ready to bolt. "OK," Tom encouraged as he selected a chair, still clueless.

Chakotay rubbed his palms over the bag containing the Rutali book. He was surprised he wasn't sweating; he was very aware of the necklace reflecting back his body heat. "I'd like you to...that is...You've had a lot of lovers, right?" he finally blurted.

Tom's hackles automatically rose in self-defense. His body followed suit, leaping from its seat. "Yeah, so what! You got some kind of problem with that? Well, tough luck, Commander. The fraternization regs went out the airlock a long time ago---"

"Tom---" Chakotay also stood.

"Just what kind of *proposition* did you have for me, huh? Maybe you think 'cause I'm friendly, I'll sleep with anything that moves, right?" Tom's arms were swinging wildly as he raved.

"*Tom*---"

The blond skidded to a halt in front of Chakotay, hands on hips as he yelled into the Chakotay's face. "What's in the bag, some kind of payoff? You son of a---"

"*Lieutenant*!" Chakotay barked. The two men stared at each other as the echoes faded. Chakotay sighed and sank down onto his seat. "I never thought of you as a slut, or a whore, Tom. A hustler, yes." He attempted a small conciliatory smile. "But only at pool."

Then he shrugged. "Besides, I always check the condition of my own pot before commenting on other people's kettles. And in this case, mine's definitely more tarnished."

The honest affirmation, tiny smile, and ridiculous image of Chakotay studiously inspecting cookware finally won Tom over. He calmed, made a "Forget about it" gesture and returned to his chair. His brow furrowed in confusion as he leaned forward. "Then what's this all about?"

Chakotay surprised Tom with his opening. "I'll explain everything, but first you have to promise me you won't breathe a word of this to anyone. Not even to Harry or B'Elanna."

Tom sensed the gravity in Chakotay's demeanor; whatever this was, it was serious. "All right."

Chakotay nodded and relaxed slightly. "You've met some of the Rutali leaders, yes? Do you remember their Regent, Nedal?"

"Sure." Tom shrugged.

Chakotay continued, "How about the Chief Consul, a woman named Sisryn?"

"Yeah.” Tom sat back. “She officially welcomed my group when we got to the reception."

“OK." Chakotay looked at the bag once more, then up again. "At the morning briefing, the Captain is going to announce that we've been invited to the Rutali homeworld. It'll take about a week to get there."

Tom wondered what the catch was. "That's good news, right?"

"Yes, but there's more to it. What she won't mention is that there is a wormhole near it, and we've been invited to use that, too. It could send us anywhere from one to fifteen years closer to home."

Tom's eyebrows lifted. "Why keep that a secret?"

"Because the Rutalis charge a very unusual price for using the wormhole. A very personal price." Chakotay dropped his gaze as he felt a blush beginning.

Tom’s eyes narrowed as they considered his fidgety guest. "Let me guess. It's a very *private* transaction. With Nedal as the customer and Sisryn the procurer." 

His mouth tightened. "I won't do it, Chakotay. Like you said, I'm not a whore."

"But I am, apparently." Chakotay's chin lifted at Tom's shocked stare. "If the price is right. Only they call the role the Larat, and say it's more like being a courtesan."

He waved a hand. "The semantics don't matter. When Voyager reaches the homeworld, I go and...stay with Nedal for a while. When I get back, we go through the wormhole and find out how far it takes us."

Chakotay didn't like the speculative light kindled in those blue orbs, but gamely plowed on, anxious to get it over with. "The problem is, while just accepting the job is enough to let us use the wormhole, how well I do it---literally---determines how far we get. As far as 15 years, or as little as one."

Tom was floored. If he hadn't been sitting he would have measured his length on the less-than-clean carpet. /Chakotay was...he was going to...shit!/ He decided to hide his amazement with a typical smart-aleck remark. "And what are you looking for from me, pointers?" he laughed.

"Yes, and more." Chakotay waited as Tom abruptly sobered, then continued. "Because right now I have zero experience at this and I don't think the Regent is interested in breaking in a rookie. I have the week until we get to the Rutali homeworld to prepare. I want you to help me learn what I need to know to please him."

Chakotay shrugged. "It would be like one of your usual flings, except we keep it a secret. When the week is up we part company and never mention it again. Go back to the way things were. Hopefully I'll be able to pick up enough to satisfy Nedal."

Tom still wasn't sure he was hearing right. "So you want me to fuck you for a week, so you can go fuck the Rutali Regent? And you want me to keep it to myself, and afterward just forget it ever happened?"

"Essentially. But there's a little more than simple fucking involved." Chakotay took out the Rutali tome and laid it on Tom's lap. "This is a kind of instruction manual. It lists all of my duties as the Larat. I would also like you to help me figure out which five to refuse."

Chakotay gave a huge sigh and stood. "Look over the book tonight, and let me know tomorrow if you think you can do it. If not, that's all right, I'll figure something out. Just make sure you keep quiet about this."

Tom also rose, feeling the weight of the book in his hands. He looked curiously at Chakotay. "What makes you so sure I'd want to end it after the week is up?"

"Look at your usual choices, Tom: Megan and Jenny Delaney, Sue Nicoletti, Durst, Gerron, Tabor, Harry. Except for Seven, all of your previous partners are fun-loving, lively, young, and nowhere near as strong as you."

Chakotay shrugged. "Let's face it, I'm not your type. Besides, no matter how easygoing a lover you are, even you would balk at your partner going straight from your bed to Nedal's."

Tom had to agree. He stepped up to Chakotay and put out his hand. "If I decide I can do this, I'll abide by your terms. And no matter what happens, no one will hear of this from me. You have my word."

The two men shook on it.

****************

Kathryn nestled deeper into her lover's sleep-slackened embrace. She couldn't seem to drift off, despite the workout she'd had that evening. On the dance floor, as well as in this bed.

Her hands tightened around the whipcord arms loosely cradling her. /I could have lost this./ Kathryn sighed as she recalled the unlikely circumstances that had brought Ken Dalby into her life, and her heart.

It had been Chakotay, of all people, who decided to play Cupid. They would have become lovers on New Earth if they'd been left much longer, but Voyager had returned. The daily grind of life aboard ship forced them back into their respective roles. Over time, the sparks of attraction had faded to the muted sparkle of friendship.

Occasionally Chakotay suggested potential dates for his Captain and friend. Kathryn was adamant that she couldn't get involved with someone under her command. Then the ship had docked at a friendly planet for a month's worth of overhauls. Extended shore leave was granted, and Chakotay made sure his CO was on the rotation. A few hours before Kathryn was due to leave, Chakotay had come to her Ready Room to call in a favor.

A man had approached Chakotay while he was on the planet negotiating their stay. He had expressed a great admiration for Voyager's feisty Captain, and arranged a meal at a local cafe, hoping she could be persuaded to join him.

Chakotay wanted her to go. It was a public place with excellent food and a pleasant ambiance, and Chakotay thought the change would do her good. She'd balked, but in the end she'd sulkily given in and headed for the restaurant.

She'd been there only a few moments when a slim hand had lightly touched her arm. Kathryn was still catching her breath from the jolt it delivered as her unknown admirer circled around the table to his own seat. She'd been shocked to lift her eyes to meet Kenneth Dalby's.

He'd held up that same hand, forestalling her protests and questions. "Yes, I'm the one you're here to meet. And no, it isn't a trick. Just hear me out, and if you still aren't comfortable I'll leave."

He sat, and rested on his elbows on the table. "I never signed on to Starfleet. I wear the uniform to make things easier on Chakotay. I owe him."

The seriousness of his expression kept Kathryn quiet. "I don't follow orders because I have to, or out of respect for any chain of command. I don't *want* to be part of it." He held her eyes. "I obey orders because that is the best way to help my friends get home."

When Kathryn finally spoke, it wasn't to ask a question he expected. "And it took a right cross to convince you of that?"

Dalby smiled, and Kathryn found herself enchanted by the way it lighted his eyes and transformed his face. "In a way, yes. It reminded me that Chakotay is still the strong leader he was in the Maquis. I remembered why I trusted him." 

He sobered. "And because he trusted you, I decided to try to as well."

Kathryn looked down, more disappointed than she cared to admit at having to deny this possibility. "That may be true, Mr. Dalby---"

"Ken."

"Ken," she allowed. "But that doesn't change the fact that officially, you're under my command."

"You're mistaken. I may answer to Crewman, but I'm a civilian, like Neelix. You can check the records." His eyes twinkled at her. "You may not know it, but instead of issuing orders, all of you are actually just making heartfelt requests."

She felt her lips twitch in response, but held her ground. "You're still a member of Voyager's crew."

"But not of the command structure." He gestured. "*We've* never worked together and likely never will. There's no conflict in our professional lives because they never overlap. And since I've learned to trust in you, I've had no problems working under Carey or Tuvok, or anyone else."

He took her hand; the touch made her tremble. "Your real fear is that you'll be forced to order your lover to his death. You won't have to do that, Kathryn." He gave a gentle squeeze. "If I'm right about what we could have together, then you won't have time to give the command. To protect you, my friends, our home...you can be damn sure I'll volunteer first."

Kathryn removed her hand and saw him tense. She made her decision in the split second she saw Ken Dalby steel himself to accept her rejection. Protocol or not, right or wrong, she couldn't walk away. She chose not to.

She reached for a menu and sent her date a quick smile. "All right, you've got yourself a dinner."

/And what a revelation it was./ They'd talked all night long, leaving the cafe when it closed to walk the lamplit streets hand in hand. Though he'd had a knockabout sort of life, Ken Dalby was surprisingly cultured and, thanks to his love of reading, well-versed in topics as diverse as quantum physics and ancient philosophy.

Kathryn had somehow found the courage to continue the relationship even after the repairs were finished and they were back on course for home. Their tastes meshed surprisingly well, and their temperaments and viewpoints differed enough to make things interesting. As Ken became a welcome fixture in her life, the crew seemed happy for her. But nowhere near as happy as she was.

Surprisingly, he was the one who held off having sex. Ken didn't want to share Kathryn's bed until he knew he would be staying there. She thought it would happen the night they held each other close and talked of private things: their histories, the deaths of loved ones, Cardassians, Starfleet, Maquis. Instead, they'd just slept in each other's arms. They finally made love two weeks later, and hadn't spent a night alone since.

/Would I have accepted Larat? Could I have faced Ken if I did?/ She didn't have an answer; she wasn't sure she ever would. But as Captain Kathryn Janeway finally fell to sleep in Ken's arms she sent silent thanks to Chakotay. For everything.

************************************************************  
************************************************************

Tom nervously paced the confines of Holodeck One, deliberately ignoring the Rutali book sitting on the control panel. He'd sent Chakotay his agreement, and received the time for their meeting, early this morning. But he still had doubts.

The original source of his disquiet surprised him. Last night, Tom had been unsettled by his own reaction when he thought of bedding Chakotay. There was a hard edge to his anticipation that tasted of payback. For what, Tom wasn't sure. But it was disturbing enough to make him seriously consider rejecting the Big Man's proposition. 

In the end, Tom's sense of duty prevailed. That and the irresistible lure of the unknown. He'd come three times last night just imagining Chakotay's "duties" as he flipped through the erotic alien manual.

The day had been an exercise in building tension. The announcement at the morning briefing had gone just as Chakotay said. Voyager was now heading for the Rutali homeworld, escorted by the flagship of their hosts' fleet. Nedal, Sisryn, and Milady were aboard the Rutali ship, accompanied by a selection of pride leaders. A schedule of visits between the two vessels was being organized by Neelix.

Then Tom had taken his seat at the Conn for his shift and started feeling stalked again, only this time he couldn't run. Although Chakotay had sat behind the pilot almost every day for four years, today marked the first time he'd felt the heat of those dark brown eyes. He could almost sense when they shifted from his back to his hair to his hands. It jarred him.

More annoying than unnerving was the Captain. She kept glancing at Chakotay, then at him, then at Chakotay. She *had* to know. /Apparently, only one of us is under a gag order,/ Tom thought, mouth thinning with resentment.

Tom stopped at the sound of the holodeck doors opening. He wiped his suddenly damp palms on his uniform slacks as he watched Chakotay glide into the room. Serious, older, powerful, much stronger than him Chakotay. *Definitely* not his type. He panicked. /I can't do this./ He opened his mouth to end the agreement before it began, but Chakotay was faster.

"Good, you're still in uniform." Chakotay suspected Tom was wavering, so he swiftly crossed to the control panel and typed in his request. The holodeck grid shifted to an exclusive spa in San Francisco. "Are you familiar with the DaySpring?"

"Uh, yeah." Tom was confused; oddly, that calmed him. /What are we here for, pedicures?/ He affected a casual air. "My family had a lifetime membership."

"I hoped so." Chakotay smiled at his companion, and was relieved to get at least a quirk of lips in response. He gestured to two plush chairs nearby. "Can we talk a minute?"

"Sure." Tom gingerly settled onto the midnight-blue cushions, waiting as Chakotay grabbed the book and settled across from him. "So, um, what did you have in mind?"

"For tonight, not a lot." Chakotay was relieved to see Tom relax slightly. He wished *he* could---he was still as wound up as a teenager. He fumbled for a place to start. "So...you read it?"

"Yeah. Some pretty extreme shit in there." Tom remembered his reaction to a few of the chapters and shifted uncomfortably. "You said you could refuse to do five things, right?"

"Yes. The trick is figuring out what I can't handle, or can't do well. If I really screw up," Chakotay could feel himself blushing again, "it could cut down on the distance the wormhole takes us."

The blush reassured Tom in some strange way. He relaxed even more, making the gracious gesture of a sage deigning to dispense wisdom. "There's only one thing I would cross off the list right off the bat. Everything else, my advice is to try it and see what happens."

Chakotay’s brows rose. "What's the one thing?"

Now Tom could feel his own cheeks heat a little; he'd had a lot of sex, but didn't often chat about it. "Fisting. You're going to be way too new at this for it to be comfortable, much less enjoyable. I wouldn't even attempt it."

"OK, thanks." Chakotay nodded, secretly relieved. /I wasn't even sure that was physically possible./ He decided to change topics. "Since you are the expert here, I figured I'd pretty much follow your lead. After tonight, it might be better if you pick the settings and the agenda." He lifted his shoulders. "Decide what we should try and when."

Tom felt some of his confidence return with the idea of being in control, but..."What about tonight?"

Chakotay sighed. "When I said I had no experience, I meant it, Tom. Not just being with a man, but casual sex, really. I'm used to spending time with a lover before we hit the sheets. Months, even."

He stiffened in response to the younger man's gawking. "It's how I was raised. To establish a connection first. We don't have time for that, so I hoped you'd be willing to try something else."

"What, exactly?" Tom's stupefaction didn't dull his suspicion.

"I'd like to...um...give you a massage." Chakotay was getting a little irritated. /Shouldn't Tom's jaw be tired from hanging open like that so long?/ He stood. "The bathing cubicles are over there. And I've left an extra towel for you to use when you're done. The table's---"

"Yeah, I know, I've been here." Tom's eyes narrowed. "*Just* a massage?"

"Well, and maybe a kiss. That's it." Chakotay smiled again, trying to put his soon-to-be-partner at ease. "I may not keep my hands to myself, but I won't be taking any liberties, to quote the Captain's holonovels."

“OK." The two men parted to their respective cubicles. Tom quickly stripped and washed, noting the unscented shower gel. When he was dry, he wrapped the extra towel around his waist and made his way to the massage room. And stopped in shock.

Tom had seen Chakotay in his usual loose clothes and even his Wash Day Leathers, and occasionally wondered what lay underneath. His imagination hadn't done the Commander justice. He'd always thought of men's bodies as hard and angular, but Chakotay's was a symphony of curves. 

Chakotay was facing away from him. A line of gold marked the place where the strong column of his neck met powerful shoulders, which in turn led to arms corded with muscle. The solid back and sides sketched a sinuous curve as they flowed into a surprisingly trim waist, then arched out again to towel-covered hips. The carved thighs and calves sent the eye on a delightful journey downward that ended at the gracefully arched feet. Then the living bronze turned around.

Tom started at the feet again, enjoying the smooth skin of the muscled legs, and jumping past the towel to Chakotay's torso. The hairless expanse invited fingers to run up and down the undulating waves of his abdomen, and palms to measure the strong chest. Dusky nipples complemented the flawless skin. A disclike, faceted crystal rested below the base of Chakotay's neck, set in a barbaric necklace of dark gold. From this perspective Chakotay’s shoulders were even more impressive, and his throat a graceful line up to the jaw and dimpled chin. 

Tom's eyes lingered on the lush curves of those rosy lips before they moved on. It was fitting that the bold line of nose wasn't perfectly straight, while the wide brow seemed a perfect background for the airy brush of the tattoo.

Chakotay looked like something out of legend, from a time when gods strode the earth in the form of men. Tom's eyebrows drew together as he tried to recall an appropriate deity. /Zeus? Hercules? No, not a god...a Titan. Prometheus./ A noble figure, who stole fire from Mount Olympus and brought it to Earth for humanity. Yes, he could see the faintest flush of the fire still tinting that smooth skin, and a newly born flame of passion burning in the dark gaze. Tom swallowed and wondered at the conflagration to come. 

Chakotay noted that Tom's focus had moved once again to the necklace. He touched it briefly and explained, "This is the symbol of the Larat." He thought the blue eyes had darkened slightly, like the sky at twilight. Stepping forward, he held out his arm, palm raised. "May I?"

Tom hesitantly lifted his own hand and watched as it was engulfed in the broader one. He was puzzled as Chakotay lifted Tom's hand, cradling it in both of his own. He curled Tom’s fingers slightly, brought Tom’s hand to his nose, and inhaled. He moved closer to Tom, repeating his action with Tom’s wrist, the crook of his elbow and, leaning forward slightly, the place where Tom's neck met his shoulder. Tom's skin felt sensitized, aware of that faint draw and puff of air against it.

Then Chakotay broke the spell by abruptly stepping back. He briskly strode over to a lighted niche. "Please lay down on your stomach," he tossed over his shoulder as he began hunting among the colored glass bottles displayed within.

"What was that sniffing thing? Making sure I washed?" Tom was nervous again as he gingerly lay down, keeping an eye on his new masseur.

"No," Chakotay chuckled. "Just getting an idea of your natural scent, so I could pick an appropriate blend." He walked over to the table carrying a square cobalt vessel. He opened it and held it poised over Tom's back. "Ready?"

"Massage away." Tom placed his head on folded arms and tried to relax. He felt the warm silky trail of oil making its way down his spine. The scent teased his nostrils; it was unfamiliar, fresh, and somehow reminded him of a brisk morning at sea. "What is that?"

"A bit of this and that. I call it 'Ocean Breeze'." Chakotay breathed deeply a moment, seeking calm, then lightly placed his hands at the top of the smooth pale back. He closed his eyes, concentrating on the feel of muscles underneath the skin. He spread the oil, then started the massage with a light brush, then a gentle pressure, gauging Tom's reaction by feel. He found each knot of tension and worked it strongly until it dissipated.

Tom was drifting on a sea becalmed. The hands on his flesh seemed to impart warmth, tenderness, even wonder in their touch. He could sense Chakotay taking his time, learning him inch by inch. He'd never been so affected by a nonsexual contact in his life. His legs parted slightly as Chakotay reached the top of his towel and moved past it to drip oil in the well formed by the backs of his knees. The lower half of his thighs were then encircled by strong hands and kneaded.

Chakotay laughed. "This certainly feels different. Usually I don't have to deal with body hair." He opened his eyes to watch the tiny golden filaments glisten even more brightly with the oil.

Tom thought he should be saying something, asking Chakotay who taught him massage, but he could feel his brain turning to pudding just like his body. Everything from his neck to his calves had melted into the table. He felt Chakotay rub his ankles, then move to his feet. The press of thumbs on his arch brought an unexpected groan of appreciation from deep in Tom's belly.

Chakotay finished the other foot and chuckled again as he stepped away from the table. "Turn over---if you still can." He stopped laughing as he watched Tom stretch, then languidly comply, resting a moment on his elbows.

He'd had a vague awareness of Tom's attractiveness over the years. Tom’s body had been on display before, clad in swim trunks at the resort. But he'd never taken the time to stop and really look.

The slender limbs suggested elegance and a wiry strength. They were sprinkled liberally with fine golden hair. Cropped sun-kissed locks, blush-pink lips and deep-sea-blue eyes enhanced the features of a classically handsome face. The long line of the ivory throat merged with surprisingly broad shoulders, while the respectably-defined chest was crowned with two dark pink nubs, rising from a field of golden curls. The line of hair narrowed and pointed like an arrow, leading the eye over the muscled belly and under the edge of the towel.

Chakotay hurriedly cleared his throat and reached for the bottle of oil.

Tom hadn't missed the brown eyes' journey over his body---again, he could feel their heat. He found his voice. "Why did you come to me, Chakotay?"

Chakotay gestured for Tom to lie back down as he gathered his thoughts. He began to work on Tom's front, quickly finishing his legs. Then he moved up to the slender arms. He made his way down each lightly muscled limb and carefully manipulated each of the long fingers. When he leaned over slightly to reach the younger man's chest, he held the blue eyes a moment. Tom was surprised at how open Chakotay's expression was.

The bronzed hands began surveying the muscles of Tom's chest the same way they had explored his back. "Once I admitted I'd never be able to do this without some coaching, you were the only choice for my teacher. There were several reasons. For one, no matter how short or intense your affairs, you always manage to stay on good terms with people afterward. That's a rare gift. Two, I know you've had quite a few male lovers, and I'm going to need the perspective experience brings."

Tom was putty in the hands molding his body. He felt blood lazily making its way to his cock, filling it slowly, an odd sort of relaxed arousal. He almost whimpered in disappointment when Chakotay carefully avoided his nipples, and felt the urge to arch into those capable hands as they began to massage his abdomen. Tom was definitely getting excited, but tried to cover it with a breathless query, "Anything else?"

Chakotay finished at the towel line again, and rested his hands there a moment. Then he caught Tom's eyes and held them. "Mainly it was because in all my life you're the only man I ever gave a second look. The night we met, I seriously reconsidered my rule against one-night stands." 

He paused. "I thought about what I'd have to do with Nedal and I didn't want my first time to be with a stranger. I wanted to be with you."

Tom was mesmerized. By the velvet voice, the heat and earthy scent radiating from the body above him. By the powerful hands that moved to rest lightly on his shoulders. But mostly by the fire in those deep, dark eyes, glowing with desire and passion and a just a hint of something indefinable. He couldn't move as those eyes closed in, and the rose-tinged lips parted to whisper, "I'm going to kiss you now."

Chakotay felt like he could drown in the pools of Tom's eyes as they drew him down. He could smell the musk of the younger man's arousal and was surprised how primal his own response was. He drew closer to those pink lips, hoping they were trembling in anticipation and not fear. His own eyes closed as he made contact.

/No wonder Seska was obsessed with him. No one else could ever match this kiss./ Tom felt like he was going to burst into flame. Chakotay's lips were as soft as they looked, and taking Tom's mouth the way his hands had explored Tom’s body. A feather-light touch followed by firmer pressure, then that lush mouth opened to slide along Tom's upper lip, then lower, sucking each in turn.

Chakotay loved to kiss. As he'd admitted to Tom, he sometimes spent months on foreplay, so he'd learned to make the wait worth his lover's while. When Tom parted his mouth to moan, Chakotay didn't just dive in. He had a promise to keep. Instead, he let the tip of his tongue run slowly along the inner edge of Tom's lower lip, asking for admittance.

Tom opened his mouth wider, desperately wanting that tongue to explore further. He moaned again when his silent invitation was accepted with relish, the warm, silky invader touring its new territory and spreading pleasure in its wake. Tom was so overwhelmed with sensation he didn't even notice that he was doing nothing except reveling in the experience. His own hands were curled into loose fists and his tongue lay quietly, waiting for its partner to come and twine with it again.

Chakotay opened his mouth wider, completely surrounding Tom's. He breathed for both of them as he slowly fucked Tom's mouth, sucking the pink lips in to brush against his own teeth, then easing them back as his tongue thrust against Tom's. His rhythm was unrelenting and growing wild, but his hands stayed chastely on Tom’s shoulders.

Tom's fists had moved to press against the table, holding his towel taut as his hips lifted to thrust against it. He craved friction for his engorged cock; if his mouth had been under his own control at that moment he'd have begged Chakotay to stroke him, take him, do whatever he wanted to bring release. But Tom could only move in time with Chakotay's tongue, and take Chakotay's hot breath into his own body. He groaned in relief as the tempo increased and an elbow dropped near his groin so he could press against it. Finally, he tore his mouth from Chakotay's to fill his lungs with the shockingly cold air of the room and gasp as his orgasm hit.

Both men panted into the stillness. Chakotay almost came himself from the sight of the wild-eyed, wanton creature that was Tom Paris at the moment of climax. He felt the trip-hammer beat of his pulse and the heavy weight of his own arousal. He breathed for just himself again, trying to regain some measure of control. When he found it, he moved one hand to stroke Tom’s flushed cheek. 

With the other he loosened Tom's towel and cleaned him, taking care not to expose any of the pale flesh. Although now he desperately wanted to see all of Tom's body. Know all of him. Instead, he silently rearranged the blond's covering and willed his own erection to fade.

Tom was in complete and utter shock, too drained to do more than note the gentle hands stroking him and cleaning his cum-covered groin. He'd never climaxed just from a kiss before---even if it had been preceded by a skin-tingling massage. His eyes fluttered open as the hands left him. He noted the fire in the dark eyes had banked down to embers. He gathered his strength and lifted one hand to vaguely indicate the older man's towel. "What about you?"

Chakotay gave a small smile. "Not a problem. Tonight was for you." He quirked an eyebrow. "I'm glad you enjoyed it."

Tom felt himself flush with embarrassment. "Can't argue with the evidence." He sat up, careful holding his towel. "I'm a little tired, was there anything else?"

Chakotay frowned slightly, uncertain how to react to Tom's distant tone. "No...I guess we just wait to see what tomorrow brings?"

"Yeah. I'm gonna hit the showers again." He departed, lost in thought, leaving a worried Chakotay behind.


	3. Chapter 3

/He's hopeless. Absolutely hopeless./ Sisryn *knew* she was the same age as Nedal, but at this moment she was fighting the urge to rush across Voyager's holodeck and grab his ear, pulling him out of sight so she could deliver the stinging lecture on proper behavior his mother obviously forgot. Then again, knowing how single-minded the Regent could be, perhaps he *had* received the sermon and simply ignored it.

"We're lucky everyone else from our ship is too busy eating to notice this little display," Milady muttered in her ear. "He's practically sharing GoldenBoy's uniform. If the pride leaders saw him right now, it would crash that sky-high price you're charging for Privilege."

Sisryn turned to the older woman, frustration in every line of her body. "I am well aware of that, Milady, but what do you suggest I do? And don't say 'speak to the Regent'. I've seen him kill with one swipe of those claws. I'm way too young to be making my trip to the Celestial plane."

"So you'll send me forth to brave Nedal's temper, Sisryn?" Milady regarded the Chief Consul with amusement. "So kind of you to allow me this opportunity to test my aging reflexes."

"I'm just hoping he'll listen to the voice of experience. It's pretty clear he's not hearing any of *my* warnings. At least about GoldenBoy. He's pretty much ignoring GoldenGirl now."

"Very well. Keep an eye on the Larat while I try to talk some sense into our misguided leader." Milady and Sisryn shared a grim smile, squared their shoulders and separated to acquire their targets.

***************

When Tom had stepped onto the holodeck for his mandatory appearance for the Rutalis' first visit aboard Voyager, he would have sworn his day could not get any worse. He was wrong. 

His troubles had started yesterday, actually, almost the instant he left Chakotay staring after him in the DaySpring massage room. He'd lied. He hadn't showered, just performed a quick cleanup, dressed and fled back to his cabin. To sit and brood. 

He couldn't bring himself to wash away the remnants of the oil. That fresh, subtle scent surrounded him like the lightest of veils, teasing Tom to remember his session with the shockingly sexy Commander. His body continued to hum with pleasure far longer than he expected. But in retrospect the whole experience was disturbing.

Chakotay had been right about Tom's choice of lovers. Tom always preferred to be the stronger partner in the *relationship*, no matter how loosely the term was applied. He needed to be in control. If Tom ever felt that sense of security threatened, he ended the affair lickety-split. With women, it was usually about the time they started making vague jealous noises about exclusivity. With men, it was much more straightforward: Tom dumped a guy as soon as talk turned to equality and topping *him*.

He didn't even know what caused that gut-level need to flee at the thought of being taken. He'd never bottomed, so it's not as though he'd had a bad experience. As a golden-haired, silver-tongued cadet, young Mr. Paris had been propositioned by plenty of men. But the only offers he ever accepted were from the ones who wanted his cock, not his ass. He made the same choices as an officer, and even during those rather shady days before the Maquis.

His time with the rebels, and in prison, had hardened his resolve. In both situations he'd had to do too much fast talking, and fighting, to keep control of his body and circumstances. It brought home to him the truth that the bottom in a male-male relationship was a far too vulnerable position for Thomas Eugene Paris to ever put himself in.

His hookups on Voyager were much the same. He had only selected partners who were so eager to land the Lieutenant that they would do so on his terms. Anyone who looked the take-charge type in the bedroom was firmly dismissed from his mind, even from his fantasies.

Then along came Chakotay. Sensual and smoldering, he clearly deserved a starring role in any X-rated dream Tom could come up with. And that was part of the problem.

Even though Chakotay had supposedly come to Tom to gain some experience as a bottom (it seemed highly unlikely Nedal ever let *anyone* have the upper hand, especially between the sheets), Tom was very much feeling the weaker half of the duo.

The touch of those bronzed hands had been extremely arousing, but also masterful. It had been a perfect demonstration of how much Chakotay was in command, of both Tom and the situation. Tom wanted to hunch into his couch and hide when he recalled the wild things he would have promised Chakotay during that kiss. That he hadn't had the opportunity---or breath---to do so was Chakotay's decision, not his own.

Even more unsettling than the overwhelming physical sensations had been the mental realization. Tom had wanted Chakotay so much that he would have been willing to bed him on any terms. And that was *not* a position of power.

So after a few hours of tossing and turning, Tom had appeared at Chakotay's door before shift. He hemmed and hawed for a few minutes, but finally admitted that he could not go through with their arrangement.

Tom had then taken a deep breath and prepared to give a less-than-honest (and completely unrevealing) reason for his withdrawal. "I can't, because---"

"There's no need to explain." Chakotay cut in.

Tom couldn't interpret the tone. However, Tom clearly saw the banked fires in Chakotay's eyes wink out in an instant. Though that heated, predatory gaze had singed Tom's nerves, having it disappear so completely was like a door slamming shut. The sudden shock of being left out in the cold almost made him change his mind.

Instead, he screwed up his courage and continued, though he felt gauche now facing the interested, but reserved, expression Chakotay usually showed him. "If you'd like me to suggest someone else...?"

"Thank you for the offer, but that won't be necessary. I'd appreciate your continued discretion, though." Chakotay's calm, professional air was almost enough to make Tom question his memory of the man's overpowering sexuality. For one surreal moment he entertained the notion of grabbing Chakotay and shaking---or kissing---that fire back to life. Then he sternly reminded himself of how helpless he'd been under the spell of the older man and quickly retreated.

It felt chilly on the bridge that morning without a burning gaze tracing the contours of his body. Instead, Chakotay's regard was the nonthreatening mix of friendship and camaraderie the men had achieved over the years. Tom's mind wandered from the Conn as guilt and doubts began to creep in. He wondered what Chakotay would do now. And, much more importantly, who he would choose to do it with.

Tom's mental conversation, actually shouting match, pro and con for changing his mind yet again had left him a bundle of nerves. By the time he stepped into the holographic re-creation of a garden with a Greek-style colonnaded pavilion, he was convinced that the wisest course of action would be to secrete himself in a very cold shower until he stopped thinking about his fiery Titan altogether.

He'd slinked along the thick Ionic columns edging the mosaic floor, then wandered around the garden. He told himself he was trying to keep a low profile, but he couldn't seem to stop his eyes from seeking out a particular red-and-black-clad figure. 

Tom had finished one circuit when he sensed eyes on his body. Not the heated caress of Chakotay's smoky gaze, but a sharp stab of possession. The unknown, unnerving watcher seemed to stake Tom in place like a goat laid out as bait for a tiger---his or hers for the taking.

Tom whirled and nearly smacked noses with the Rutali Regent. He stumbled back a step, only to have Nedal move forward to brush their chests together. Tom continued to back up until he was pressed against a tree. "Wha-What are you doing?" he garbled in an ever-so-slight panic. It was clear this man, who was as tall as himself but built like Chakotay, didn't even bother to pay lip service to the notion of personal space. Tom swallowed---he truly did feel like prey.

"You would have been my Chosen, golden one, my Larat," the deep voice rumbled as one finger, claw sheathed, trailed up the seam of Tom's jacket.

Tom knew that officially, all Voyager's crew had been told was that Chakotay had been named the liaison to the Rutali, and that his position required the wearing of the crystal seal. He decided to play dumb. "I'm not really qualified to be an ambassador," he said, trying to ease his way around the solid figure.

Suddenly that talon snicked out and snagged the Starfleet-issue material, pressing through the layers to prick Tom's skin. The Regent's expression was stomach-knottingly fierce. 

"There would have been no room for negotiation, my sleek goband," Nedal growled, using his other hand to enclose his captive's jaw. "But you would have served me well." His claws convinced Tom of the wisdom of holding still. "Very well, indeed. In every capacity."

Tom couldn't believe the sense of déjà vu. He was half a galaxy away from Auckland, and yet here was a Delta Quadrant bully who thought he could get what he wanted from Thomas Eugene Paris just by looming over him. Nedal was going to find out he had underestimated his "golden one" just as much as the prison heavies had. His hands unconsciously clenched into fists as Tom mentally prepared attacks and defensive moves. The claws would be a problem, but Tom was prepared to fight dirty. He was determined not to be intimidated, especially by this self-important overgrown alley cat.

Just as he opened his mouth to deliver a blistering verbal assault, he stopped in shock, mouth hanging open. A slender, fine-boned hand Rutali reached over Nedal's shoulder and firmly gripped the Regent's ear, giving it a hard yank.

Nedal suppressed a howl as he was pulled down to Milady's level. "You, Sir, are coming with me. I think it's time we had a little chat." And with that she led the Regent away like a recalcitrant five-year-old.  
Tom did notice, however, that the elderly Rutali made sure no one else could see her disciplinary measure as she dragged Nedal into the maze of plants.

***************

After several minutes Tom's nerves steadied and he shook off the rush of adrenaline. /At least now I know who to avoid/ Tom thought as he walked back to the pavilion with its tables of refreshments. He changed course when he caught the flash of his elusive quarry disappearing around a hedge.

Approaching from a different angle, Tom peered around a corner to see the back of the Rutali Chief Consul. She was making her way toward Chakotay, who was seated at a stone bench surrounded by flowers. A single finger was lightly stroking a pale, delicate blossom with waxy leaves. 

Chakotay seemed lost in thought, but looked up with a polite smile and started to stand when he heard Sisryn's steps. Intrigued, Tom circled around to find a hiding place close to the pair, then hunkered down to eavesdrop.

"Forgive me, Larat, if I disturb you," Sisryn said, bowing.

"Not at all," Chakotay said, gesturing to the spot beside him as he resettled. "And please, just call me Chakotay."

"Then I am Sisryn," she replied, then watched him a moment. "You are not comfortable with any of this, are you?"

Chakotay's hand automatically touched the seal laying upon his breast. He sighed, "No, I'm not. But there doesn't seem to be much I can do about it."

"Why is that?" came the sympathetic question.

Chakotay surveyed the Rutali. "If I tell you, will that have any effect on how I am judged as Larat?"

"A wise question. I can only tell you that honesty is never penalized." Sisryn leaned over to lay a hand on both of Chakotay's, which had moved to twist together over one knee. "Talk to me."

He nodded and gave Sisryn a quick smile. Tom strained to hear, extremely interested in what had disheartened the usually unflappable Commander.

Chakotay sighed. "I'm not used to sex being treated like a commodity. Or viewing myself that way, either. But...I wanted to do my best for the crew, so I sought some help from a colleague. It didn't go well, but I'm not quite sure why."

"Was he...discouraged...by the instructions in the tome?" Sisryn asked, tilting her head.

"No, at least I don't think so." Chakotay sighed again. "I tried to show my friend he could trust me in an intimate situation. Instead, I think I scared him off."

The Rutali smiled and tried to inject some levity. "Don't give me details; they'd probably be too juicy to keep to myself."

She sobered at Chakotay's dejected silence. "What makes you think you did something wrong?" she questioned softly.

"I knew that the reason he was going to give me for backing out wouldn't have been the truth, so I'm just describing my gut feelings. I'm not sure if I can explain it." Chakotay turned to face the Consul fully, spreading his hands. "My parents taught me that the basis of a relationship, of any kind, is trust."

Chakotay lifted Sisryn's hand and cradled it, warming to his theme. "I don't know what's true among your people, but in human relationships a woman is usually not as strong as a man. So for her to place herself---body, soul, spirit---into a lover's hands is an act of courage, and a gift. One that must be honored. That gift also has to be earned, by spending time sharing thoughts and feelings, getting to know one another. Building trust."

It seemed Sisryn, like Tom, was barely remembering to breathe, so wrapped up were they in the atmosphere Chakotay was weaving with his words. "What about two men together?" she whispered.

"I don't know." Chakotay said, gently squeezing, then releasing the tawny hand. "But I'm still more powerfully built, so I tried to find a way that didn't need a lot of words, or time, to show that I could be trusted. That I wouldn't use my strength against my partner, even in the heat of passion."

Chakotay's lips quirked ruefully. "I failed. So now I'm not sure what to do."

"I'm sorry, Chakotay. I wish there was a way I could help. It is a pity your colleague could not see you as I do, strength and gentleness blended." She blushed. "I know I would trust you, and welcome your passion."

Chakotay blushed himself, and gave Sisryn a grateful smile. "Thank you. That's very comforting to know, so you've helped a great deal."

He stood, holding an arm out for the Rutali minister. "And now we'd best return before we're missed. Please let me get you a drink." He grinned. "Embarrassing conversations always make me thirsty."

Sisryn chuckled. "Me as well. So lead on, Sir." They disappeared into the greenery.

Tom remained in his hiding place, too stunned to move. He couldn't believe he'd read Chakotay, and the situation, so wrong. Chakotay wasn't trying to prove his dominance; he was attempting to demonstrate his trustworthiness. Tom had been so focused on that demanding mouth that he'd misinterpreted the generous hands. They had stayed completely passive the whole time the two men kissed. Tom also remembered their tender treatment of his body beforehand.

Shame washed over Tom. He had let his own fears drive him into breaking his promise to help Chakotay. It seemed Chakotay had been honest when he said he wasn't interested in other men. He didn't want the name of a substitute because he wasn't going to approach anyone else. He'd prepare for Nedal as best he could, all by himself.

Tom sat among the plants for quite a while, remembering his times alone with Chakotay since they'd arrived in Rutali space, and everything they had said. What finally got him moving was the memory of Chakotay's low voice saying he wanted his first time to be with Tom. Not with a stranger.

With a creak of cramped limbs Tom quickly stood, brushed himself off and asked the computer for his soon-to-be lover's location. His Titan was alone in Holodeck One. Tom smiled and headed for the exit. /Ready or not, Chakotay, here I come./

***************

Nedal gripped Milady's wrist, very carefully, and flung her hand off his ear. "That's enough," he growled, once again able to stand upright.

Milady looked around the concealing veil of vegetation. It was as private as she could get. "I agree," she said, golden eyes flashing as she stepped up to the Regent and poked him with one claw. "Your behavior this evening has been quite enough."

"I am not interested in a lecture, Milady. Sisryn has already dared my wrath on the subject of appearances. The Larat does not begin his duties until we reach the homeworld. Until that time, you will leave me in peace to pursue whomever I wish." He loomed over her shorter figure.

Milady thrust out one hip and crossed her arms, a three-dimensional portrait of the unimpressed. "You seem to forget, *Regent*, that there are many eyes upon you, and have been since Chakotay accepted the seal. The royal coffers are overflowing with payments for Privilege---and the bidding will become even more fierce when we reach Ruta and the rest of the court gets a glimpse of your dark-haired prize."

The Rutali woman broke her pose, crossing the small space. "If you are caught hunting another---especially one of your usual weak-willed blonds---the less discerning among our people may begin to question your competence. They will doubt your decisions on matters of state, since you are undisciplined enough to prefer the pilot simply because of his hair color."

"That is not the only reason," Nedal snapped huffily. "*You* selected Chakotay. He is not my choice. The man doesn't show the proper respect for my position."

"Wrong. He has been the soul of courtesy. He simply does not display the groveling deference your bootlicking sycophants have accustomed you to." An arch smile curled Milady's lips. "You're afraid the Larat will be too much of a challenge. You go to GoldenBoy because you believe he'll roll over and take whatever you deign to give him."

Milady strolled back to Nedal and whispered in his ear, "I wouldn't be so sure of that."

Her eyes hardened as she leaned back and clutched the Regent's seal. "You *will* control yourself around these humans. This is not a game for your amusement. The Larat serves the Rutali leader, but the joining also fulfills a purpose among the people. One that you have yet to comprehend. So watch your step, Nedal. You've been given fair warning."

Nedal ripped the crystal from Milady's hand. "*I* am the Regent. And if you, or the sniveling Chief Consul, crosses me again I will remind you how I have treated others who sought to usurp my power." He moved back, still radiating menace. His voice was silky but cold. "Now *you* have been given fair warning."

He left. Milady slumped against a stone urn and considered her next move.

***************

Chakotay was startled when the holodeck doors opened. He had left instructions for a privacy lock with a single exception---Tom Paris. He'd accepted the younger man's rejection with outward composure and quickly smothered the desire Tom had sparked in him. Still, a small corner of his mind held out hope that Tom would change his mind.

Apparently that wish was not in vain. He watched the lean figure approach with just a notch less than its usual nonchalance, and tried to make his own body relax.

Tom slowly walked across the room, surveying the opulent surroundings. They were in a suite more lushly appointed than anything he had ever imagined, much less experienced. The high ceilings were molded with plant and animal figures, all chased in gold. The walls were lined with a ruby brocade that matched the velvet cushions adorning gilt chairs and settees with heavily carved legs. Floor-to-ceiling windows along one wall showed the dark of night beyond their leaded panes. Drapes of the same shade and material as the wall coverings were tied back with heavy gold ropes, their tassels dangling almost to the floor. A wall of doors paneled with mirrors hinted at excessive closet space, while more ornately framed and gold-leafed looking glasses topped a huge bureau and vanity.

Light was provided by large wall sconces that looked like cupped Rutali hands, and small lamps that cast radiant puddles around end tables scattered among the other furniture.

Tom finally looked at the bed. He figured it could fit about five comfortably, noticing the sheen of patterned satin that again perfectly matched the walls. The carved headboard continued the motif of the ceiling moldings, and two enormous bolsters stretched across the top of the bed. /Ah, I guess it  
only sleeps two after all./

The floor struck the only discordant note. Tom expected richly veined marble or a carpet of ankle-deep plush. Instead a shining hardwood floor greeted his questioning gaze.

"Sisryn gave me the specs for the Larat's chambers. I changed the floor," Chakotay answered Tom's expression. "I was going to practice my 'artistic display to stir the interest of the court' mentioned in the manual." He continued more hesitantly, "since you said you couldn't..."

"I changed my mind," Tom stated, lifting his chin. "Do you have a problem with that?"

"Of course not," Chakotay quickly reassured, shoulders easing with relief then lifting in inquiry. "Um, what should we do, then?"

Tom shuffled, rather uncertain. His resolve had carried him from one holodeck to the other, then dropped him with a thud. "Well, I guess...supplies!" he snapped his fingers. "There are a few supplies we need." He looked at the walls. "Does this place have a replicator?"

Chakotay swallowed at the thought of what kind of materials Tom might be talking about. "Through there," he pointed to an open doorway. "I installed a small hallway between here and the  
bathroom. It has a replicator and refresher." 

Tom looked at him quizzically. "Why would you need that?"

"I threw my uniform in there. I figured by the time I picked a performance outfit, I could re-dress and then replicate the costume."

"So what you're wearing right now is...holographic? You're actually naked?" Tom examined the loose beige draperies swathing the powerful form. /Holographic, huh? This *definitely* has potential./

"Yes." Chakotay said briskly, a little disturbed by the laserlike beams trying to pierce his photonic covering. "If you're staying, you might as well do the same. Just ask the computer for, I don't know, a robe or something."

Tom headed for the hallway and quickly complied, shedding his clothes to return in a silk garment that matched his eyes. 

Chakotay blinked at the vision of ivory, gold and blue, then quickly diverted his gaze to the items in the slender hands. "Supplies?"

"Yep," Tom said, laying towels and oil on the bedspread. Then he hopped onto the enormous mattress and laid back, crossing his bare ankles and threading his fingers behind his head, propped on one of the pillows. He looked Chakotay up and down again. "That sack you're wearing isn't an option, right? 'Cause that's not going to stir the court's interest, or anything else."

Chakotay stiffened, then accepted the younger man's honesty. He gave an embarrassed shrug. "I guess not. Computer, initiate clothing rotation Chakotayperformance, with changes on my mark."

/Now this is what I call a fashion show./ Tom had Chakotay walk each outfit back and forth and pivot...slowly. There were several suits, charcoal, tan, navy; a few button-down shirts (oddly, some frilled) paired with dress slacks. They all fit well---certainly more tailored than anything the Commander usually sported. But Tom dismissed each ensemble as just not quite right. The closest was dark trousers topped with a red silk shirt, its collar slightly opened to expose the necklace of the Larat.

"Well, that's it." Chakotay said, throwing up his hands. "I'll probably have to do some research, or go back to the drawing board."

"Why don't you perform for me, and maybe I can make a suggestion based on the act." Tom said reasonably. He was in a good mood, viewing the talent portion of the evening as a prelude to the swimsuit---and less---phase of his private one-man beauty pageant.

"All right." Chakotay agreed and instructed, "Computer, set clothing Chakotaypractice." His garments quickly reformed.

"That's it!" Tom practically fell head-first off the foot of the bed, brought up by a sudden rush of lust. Chakotay was now dressed in the shoes that had been retained through every outfit, dress boots with clearly defined one-inch heels. This time, though, the rest of his clothes were pure black: body-hugging trousers that began mid-ribs and flowed down a trim waist, then molded a pair of luscious cheeks and strong thighs, until at the knee they continued straight down instead of tapering. And topping it off was a short-sleeved T-shirt so skintight you could see every muscle of those powerful shoulders and biceps, as well as every curve of the washboard abs. 

Tom had a sudden desire to lower the temperature, so the barely seen nipples crowning that impressive chest would harden and poke through. The barbaric gold and crystal of the Rutali seal gleamed against its midnight background, the final touch.

"*That's* your performance outfit," Tom repeated, his mouth dry.

"No, it's my practice outfit," Chakotay said in a patient tone.

"I'm telling you, Chakotay, whatever you're doing will be better received in those clothes." Tom surveyed the terrain once more. "You might even get away with just standing there."

"Yeah, right." Chakotay sighed and gave in. "I still need to make a few more environmental adjustments. Shall we get started?" Tom nodded and bounced to the bottom of the mattress, eager now for the performance to begin.

Chakotay gave the computer commands to adjust the lighting, turning it into a soft glow illuminating the clear space he was standing in. He summoned a music selection, then stood, hands relaxed at his sides, and waited.

Tom first heard the clapping, unseen hands moving in a quick, precise rhythm. Then the strains of a guitar, its notes sensually gliding around and within the beat. Slowly, Chakotay's arms raised, bending at the elbows to hover before him at waist level. Suddenly, he began to move.

His feet lifted and descended in rhythm with the clapping in the timeless steps of flamenco. As the beat sped up so did he, landing on the balls of his feet in a flurry of motion. Like an exclamation point marking the end of each phrase of music, he landed back on his heels with a sharp, emphatic sound. All the while, his upper body followed the melody of the guitar. His fingers flicking, leading to the swift turn of wrist, expanding into the graceful opening of the forearm and finally the full expanse of flowing limbs as he sketched circles in the air.

It was pure power, and passion. More than a dance, a presentation of the primal male essence. As the clapping and guitar became even faster, Chakotay's movements sharpened, alternating straight steps and swirling quick kicks, his arms snapping out and back at shoulder level as if snatching the notes from the air around him. He added spins, a blur of motion, each one transforming him into column of darkness crowned by either arms outstretched to the heavens or folded close, his crossed wrists framing the shining Rutali seal.

There was a burst of silence, then everything shifted down to the speed of a heartbeat. Chakotay's final spin slowed, loosened, his movements still precise but more supple. As he stopped turning a woman's low voice was added, a soft wail throbbing with emotion.

Now the dancer's steps were silent as he traveled across the floor, a panther pacing out his territory. His whole body was a fluid glide, this time punctuated by pauses as he moved then posed for a breathless instant, limbs lightly flexed or extended. His hands glided through the air or lightly caressed his black-clad body as they obeyed the siren's call. His hips had taken up the guitar melody, sinuously and sensuously arching right and left, forward and back, or in a slow, smooth circle.

And all the while those dark eyes burned. With passion, with desire, with the promise and confidence of a man at his peak.

The visual seduction lasted long, tantalizing minutes as Chakotay's body explored every inch of the dance space, and his predatory gaze every inch of Tom.

The woman's voice faded and the clapping increased, the guitar once again rising to meet it. Now Chakotay flickered like a flame across the floor, moving more swiftly than ever. The pounding of his feet again marked each portion of the dance, light fast steps constant like the soft roar of a fire, drowned  
out for a second by the popping-spark strike of his heels. There was no denying the heat consuming the dance---or the dancer.

Chakotay’s skin began to gleam with a sheen of sweat as music and movement began the final crescendo, building toward the climax. Chakotay reached the center of the floor and held there, hands on his hips, his legs a blur. Coinciding with the last emphatic clap and fierce note of the guitar, he leaped and landed his full weight in a mighty snap against the wood, his arms outstretched at shoulder level, palms slightly turned as if inviting---demanding---his audience to gaze upon him.

Tom obeyed, and felt desire build, lighting a bonfire within him. The heat sizzled in his core and radiated outward, filling him with an implacable determination.

He was going to have Chakotay. *Now.*


	4. Chapter 4

/This is hopeless. Absolutely hopeless./ Chakotay held back a let-down, put-upon sigh. He'd been so sure he would enjoy sex with Tom. When he'd finished his flamenco with the customary flourish, he'd looked over to check the reaction of his very select audience.

It was...incendiary. Tom’s blue eyes were incandescent, the pure heart of a flame. Chakotay could feel them searing a path along his flesh from head to toe. Then Tom rose from the bed, all lean hungry predator. His body, sun-gilded snow clad in cool blue, belied the heat of his gaze. Chakotay's rapid pulse wasn't entirely due to the exertions of the dance.

Chakotay froze in place, chest heaving slightly as he caught his breath. Then Tom lifted a hand and held it out, beckoning. Chakotay obeyed the summons, moving near and clasping Tom's left hand in his own.

The next few moments were a blur. Tom yanked him forward, spun behind him and pushed. Chakotay suddenly found himself face down on the bed with another body on top of him, pressing against his back and spreading his legs. Before Chakotay could even ask what was happening, Tom called out, "Computer, delete all holographic garments" and they were naked. 

Then an oil-covered hand was parting his buttocks and breaching his virgin ass. Far too fast for Chakotay's peace of mind.

Which brought them to this point. Chakotay tried to relax his internal muscles to make things easier for Tom, and wondered how long it would take. The desire he'd felt earlier had been thoroughly dampened by the hasty nature of their mating. No kiss, no caress, just get it in and get it done, apparently.

Now all Chakotay wanted was to get it over with. The disappointment and, he admitted, slight fear were tempered by gladness that he *hadn't* gone to bed with Tom the night they'd met. It definitely wouldn't have been worth the compromise of his principles.

Chakotay's mind wandered to ways of "faking it" with Nedal. If he wasn't having a good time with Tom, a man he'd known for years, he doubted he'd have any better luck with a heavy-handed alien who didn't even like him. Chakotay was suppressing another sigh when something much more substantial than fingers invaded him. He involuntarily tensed and the exhale turned into a half-smothered grunt of discomfort.

The small sound snapped Tom out of his rutting haze like a slap. He was somewhat shocked to find himself lying on top of, and half buried in, a gorgeous sleek body that was definitely not welcoming him.

It shouldn't have happened this way. By the end of the dance Tom had wanted Chakotay with a fierceness that shocked him. When he felt the strength of Chakotay’s hand in his own, he'd been swamped with a feeling of insecurity. He *knew* Chakotay was not a threat, but he reacted instinctively. 

He took control of the situation, tackling the solid figure, then dissolved their clothes. A few moments of quick, slick prep and Tom was demonstrating that he was the man on top.

Except there was nothing to prove. Chakotay certainly wasn't trying to fight Tom, despite the fact that he obviously wasn't enjoying the experience. Tom swallowed at a flush of remorse. He had treated his virgin lover like someone he'd pick up in a bar for a quick fuck. A one-night stand, something Chakotay had striven all his life not to be. 

Tom moved his hands to the mattress, taking some of his own weight. "Shit, Chak, I'm sorry."

Chakotay felt Tom's body still, then a lessening of the pressure against his spine. He propped himself up on his elbows and turned to look over his shoulder. "That's OK, Tom. I expected it to hurt."

Tom blinked a few times, clearing his misty vision, then rested his chin on one smooth shoulder. "You shouldn't have," he said quietly. "It didn't have to." He closed his eyes and admitted, "I've never actually slept with a virgin before."

"Really?" Tom felt the shoulder under him shift in surprise. "I would have thought that Harry---"

"Harry and I never...” Tom paused. “Well, after Akriteria, it was more about mutual comfort. We weren't truly attracted to each other, so it didn't get too physical between us. It was too much like kissing my brother." 

Tom's nose-wrinkling expression of remembered disgust faded. "I didn't mean for things to get out of hand, Chakotay. Maybe it would be better if---"

"Hey," Chakotay said softly, reacting to the sudden somber mood. Guilty blue eyes met his own. "I'm still asking for your help, Tom. Can we start again?"

Tom raised himself up to search dark eyes soft with trust. He silently vowed to rekindle a flame of desire in them once more. He lifted one hand to cradle a high-boned cheek. "No," Tom said, "But we can go on from here as we should have begun."

"All right," Chakotay nuzzled into the palm on his face, then half-closed his eyes and sent his companion a sly grin. "So impress me, Casanova. Show me what all the fuss is about." He subtly shifted his hips, reminding Tom they were still joined.

Tom's answering grin mixed relief and gratitude for the sudden levity. "Aye, aye, Sir." He leaned forward to seal the deal with a kiss, happy to see Chakotay move to meet him.

The angle was awkward, but that lush mouth was just as talented as Tom recalled. He greeted the questing tongue like an old friend, twining and traveling back and forth to explore their combined playgrounds. His hand moved from Chakotay's cheek to sink into the raven hair, the short strands silky, not bristly as he'd expected.

Tom's other palm and fingers were covered with oil, so he turned his hand and sent his knuckles exploring the back he half-rested against. Warm skin, and so soft that shock opened his eyes.

Chakotay noticed his playmate's distraction and broke the kiss. "Is something wrong?"

"No, it's just..." Tom brought his other hand down as well, to touch the satiny surface and trace the muscles flowing underneath. "...for a tough guy, you have really soft skin." He stroked Chakotay's sides and shoulders, feeling Chakotay shiver in reaction.

Tom moved to fully lie on Chakotay once more, languidly rubbing his front against Chakotay's back. He felt the body beneath him shudder as he watched the brown eyes close and the kiss-swollen lips emit a soft moan. Tom smiled. "You like to be touched, don't you?" he purred.

The brush of Tom's hands was enjoyable, but the feel of two hard nipples and the many tiny strands of hair adorning Tom's chest and abdomen were arousing beyond belief. Chakotay had never considered his back an erogenous zone before, but he was rapidly realizing his mistake as the fire started again.

Tom wiped off some of the oil by swiping his hand against his own side---he definitely wanted all ten fingers involved in this. He tucked his chin into the crook of Chakotay's neck. "Am I too heavy for you?"

At the shake of the dark head Tom lifted his own. He put his hands on either side of the strong jaw and gently turned Chakotay to face forward. He ran his fingers under the dimpled chin and along the strong column of throat to the necklace, then around to trace the curves of Chakotay's ears and followthe hairline around to the nape.  
He paused a moment to plant a kiss on that tempting bit of skin, glad to hear another soft moan. Tom's erection was returning as he once more became aware of his awkward position, half in and half out of the blood-hot passage that beckoned below.

Tom massaged the tops of the strong shoulders. "I have to start moving again, Chak. I'll try to be slow and gentle this time. Will you be all right?"

Chakotay nudged his hips back again, experimenting. Tom's touch both reassured and excited. The twinge he'd felt earlier subsiding. "Yes, I think so. Just keep doing what you're doing." The last word dissolved into a groan as those clever fingers danced their way to his chest to make sure his nipples were paying attention. The dusky nubs perked up immediately in response, and were rewarded by subtle tugs and rolls.

Tom couldn't get enough of the exquisite skin beneath him, so vibrant in contrast to his own pale coloring. He ranged over as much of Chakotay's smooth torso as he could reach. He also began undulating his hips, pushing his cock further into Chakotay's body on each downward stroke until he was fully sheathed. Then he paused, waiting, letting his lover get used to the sensation.

Chakotay wondered if this was how women felt: claimed, filled, but also embracing, possessing. It was strange, but not unpleasant. He felt Tom begin to nibble on the back of his neck and moaned again, feeling the vibration communicate itself to the man resting within and above him.

The salt of dried sweat tingled on Tom's tongue as he licked and sucked his way across Chakotay's shoulders and neck, his chin bumping the body-warmed gold circlet as he worked. Under the tang he could scent and taste his lover's essence, spice and sweetness somehow reminding him of citrus and sandalwood. 

Chakotay shifted slightly, trying to give his growing erection more room. "Move, Tom, *do* something," he commanded a little desperately.

"Whatever you say." Tom retreated halfway and pressed in again with one smooth, powerful stroke. He could feel the difference now---Chakotay's body was yielding to him, clasping his sex in a heated caress.  
He pulled out almost entirely, feeling the ring of muscle clamping around the ridge of his cock, then surged forward.

Chakotay felt a bolt of lightning zip along his nerves. He gasped and arched, the flames rising higher.

"And *that* is your sweet spot, my sweet." Tom grinned and repeated his action, pleased to have such a responsive partner as Chakotay panted and shuddered beneath him. He changed his angle slightly and felt the soft bronzed skin slide along his own as Chakotay began to writhe. The untutored movements as Chakotay sought to meet his thrusts filled Tom with a greater satisfaction than he had ever known.

Chakotay was lost in an inferno of feeling. Tom's cock slid in and out, sparking the indescribable sensations again and again. He tried to help, moving back to match his lover's forward motion, but didn't have much leverage with his legs stretched out on the ruby coverlet. Then he felt Tom's hands slide around his hips, helping to lift his lower half from the bed so he could settle on knees and elbows.

Now he could move, pushing back in rhythm with that plunging cock, feeling the brush of Tom's body hair against his buttocks and thighs as they came together in sharp slaps of flesh. Then those wonderful fingers started playing again, tweaking and pinching Chakotay's nipples and wandering down to enclose his cock. 

He almost lost the rhythm when a thumb began circling the tip as the fist squeezed, matching their beat. He felt the heat from his core rising, building, to suddenly burst from him in a surge of liquid fire, pulsing from him as he groaned. His body clamped down on the flesh filling him and he sensed the pulse of Tom's release.

Tom drove himself forward, slamming into hot welcoming flesh. Then Chakotay groaned and Tom felt the grip of the climax, the tightness of the satin walls closing around his cock. In a heartbeat Tom was lost in his own orgasm. He growled and pumped, spending his seed in a series of deep thrusts. As they collapsed, Tom felt his sweat drip to mix with Chakotay's as both men breathed deep.

After long minutes, Tom pulled out to lie beside Chakotay on the coverlet. He reached over and parted Chakotay’s buttocks, checking if his hasty preparation and uncontrolled ending had caused any damage. He answered Chakotay's inquiring grunt. "You might be a little sore tonight, but I don't think you need a regenerator. How do you feel?"

Chakotay turned his head to face Tom, who had slumped again beside him. He grinned. "Impressed."

Tom threw his head back and laughed. "I aim to please," he said, blue eyes twinkling.

"You did," Chakotay said, then leaned over, reassuring. "You did. Thank you, Tom."

"I'm glad it worked out," Tom replied softly, dropping his gaze.

Chakotay nodded, letting the moment go. He shifted a little,  
feeling unfamiliarly wet. "Could you toss me a towel or  
something? I'm too wasted to make it to the shower just yet."

"Nope, cleanup is all part of the service," Tom said briskly, swiping up a towel and gently Chakotay's thighs and backside, taking extra care in the cleft. He pushed at a sleek hip and Chakotay rolled to his side. 

Tom paused a moment, looking, feeling a twinge of renewed regret that he hadn't taken the time to appreciate the fine musculature and impressive rosy cock that now lay spent. Tom shifted to an unused section of towel and began to wipe down the cum-spattered skin.

Chakotay used Tom's distraction to take a good look at his temporary bedmate. Tom’s pale skin glowed against the dark red of the satin bedspread as Chakotay reviewed the surprisingly well-defined shoulders and chest. The long limbs matched, lean but muscled, with an elegance that was enhanced by the hairs gilding them. He moved his gaze to Tom's abdomen and the arrow of gold that yesterday led to forbidden territory. Now his view was unobstructed as he took in the long, purple-crested member that had brought him such pleasure. It lay flaccid and glistening now on a background of crisp curls. 

He snagged another towel and used it to gently enclose Tom's length. "May I?" he asked, eyes flicking up to meet Tom's. Chakotay blushed and gave a shy smile. "I've never handled equipment that's not my own."

"Sure," Tom breathed. He could feel the warmth of those capable hands even through the towel as Chakotay carefully cleaned Tom’s cock. The soft touches of the cloth against his skin were strangely comforting. He had closed his eyes, drifting in sensation, when Chakotay's hesitant voice caught his attention.

"Tom," Chakotay said, feeling his face heat again. /Spirits! I haven't blushed this much since I was twelve./ "This is awkward to ask, but I need to know. Uh...how was I?"

Tom looked into the anxious brown eyes and remembered that they weren't here together because of mutual lust. At least, that wasn't the only reason. Tom stayed quiet a moment, framing his response. /Well the truth is, my Titan, you are probably the best damn fuck I've ever had---Nah, too crude...and honest./ 

He cleared his throat and sat up, crossing his arms and staring at Chakotay the way his Academy professors always did after Tom would finish a presentation in class. He let Chakotay sweat a moment, probably recognizing the stance he himself had taken time and again while teaching cadets.

Then Tom flopped down again, grinning and briefly touching noses with Chakotay. "To quote you, Chak, I'm impressed." 

He puffed up a little as Chakotay relaxed---apparently Tom's opinion meant a lot. His expression softened. "Despite my initial clumsiness, *you* came through with flying colors for the horizontal portion of our program."

Chakotay again noticed the contrast of Tom's skin and his fiery setting as the blond flung himself onto his back on the coverlet, his arms waving expansively. "And that *dance*. Damn, Chak, you'd better have an escape route planned." 

Tom turned semi-serious eyes on his companion, "or you could find yourself the star of one hell of an orgy." Tom shifted to his side again, curiosity in every line. "Where the hell *did* you learn to dance the flamenco?"

Chakotay made himself comfortable, smiling fondly as he looked back into his past. "At the Academy---or more accurately, while I was at the Academy." He quirked an eyebrow. "Were you familiar with the Costa del Sol Café down the coast a ways?"

Tom moved a little closer as he answered. "I heard of it, but never got a chance to visit." His eyes widened. "You moonlighted at the restaurant's cabaret? I didn't think a cadet would need the money."

"That came later," Chakotay said, chuckling. "I was in my second year of training---had just turned 16, in fact. Some buddies took me to the Café to celebrate, and I fell in love."

He looked at Tom, eyes twinkling. "My very first crush was on the owner's daughter. Her name was Maya, and she was an older woman." He waggled his brows. "A very worldly 18...at least, I thought so."

Tom took a guess. "And you decided to impress the lady with your knowledge of her culture, right?"

"Yes. I got a few vids and some music, and hung around the place every weekend, asking questions. After a few months of practice, I was all set to make my move."

"And?" Tom prompted, caught up in the story.

"And I found out she was leaving to go to school on Mars. To be near her new boyfriend," Chakotay said, shaking his head with a rueful expression. After a moment he continued. "It worked out all right, though. Maya's family still wanted me around. They kind of adopted me, kept me from feeling so homesick. When Maya's dad found out I had learned how to dance, he arranged an impromptu audition."

Chakotay laughed in reminiscence. "He offered me a job on the spot. I couldn't take it, of course, but I did fill in when one of the regulars needed time off." He shrugged, "I'm just glad I could still remember the steps after all these years."

Tom nodded. "Yeah, it's not quite like riding a bike." 

Chakotay propped his head on a hand. "So what about you, Tom? Did you ever do anything crazy in the pursuit of amour?" The dark eyes were curious, and Chakotay's expression invited confidences, showing the same openness that had been there since their arrangement began.

Tom thought back, trying to remember. He felt a little sad when he finally looked up to say, "No, Chakotay, I've never been a fool for love." 

He sighed. "It's never been important enough to make the effort. I mean, there was always somebody easier hanging around who was interested in the Paris name and an attractive package."

Chakotay laid a hand on a slim wrist, trying to offer reassurance. "But nobody cares about your name here, Tom, and you've certainly proven yourself enough times for people to look beyond the wrapping to the prize within."

Tom gave a small smile. He was grateful, but unconvinced. "Thanks, Chak." He slid his hand out and stretched, eager to change the subject. "I'm gonna hit the shower."

Chakotay lightly caught Tom's arm before he could bound off the bed. "Tom, I know it's a lot to ask, but...would you mind staying the night?" He could feel himself blushing again. "It's been a while, and I need to see if, you know, I snore or talk in my sleep or anything."

Tom stilled. He had never spent the night with anyone except Harry, and that was for mutual protection against the nightmares of the prison. After the images had faded, Tom went back to sleeping alone until eventually the men agreed to split. His eyes narrowed speculatively, "OK, on one condition."

"What's that?"

"You solve a Voyager mystery for me. Tell me why you don't dress the way you did when you danced. I mean, ever since we've known each other you've been flapping around in loose clothes." He rested on an elbow, peering into Chakotay's eyes. "You have one of the most beautiful bodies I've ever seen. Why hide it?"

Chakotay blushed---*again*, much to his chagrin---and dropped his eyes in embarrassment. "I've dressed that way all my life. Because...it's silly, really." He offered a wry glance. "I don't think we know each other well enough to reveal my big secret."

Tom rolled his eyes. "I just had my cock up your ass, Chak. Doesn't that count for something?"

"Of course not." Chakotay looked at him strangely, as if the very idea was too absurd to even consider.

Tom was nonplussed by the response. "Oh." His brows drew together. "What would do it then?"

"You stay with me every night, until we reach Ruta." At Tom's dubious expression he spread his hands. "Hey, it's for a good cause, and the information you want is something I've kept to myself a long time." 

Chakotay leaned forward confidingly. "I haven't told B'Elanna or Greg, or even Kathryn. They've been bugging me about it for years, *and* they're my best friends."

The idea of getting one over on the rest of the crew---and, Tom admitted, the lure of the delectable man resting on the bed---convinced him that it wouldn't be so bad. /After all, it's only a week./ Tom stuck out his hand. "Deal."

Chakotay engulfed the slender palm in his own broader one and pumped. He pulled Tom back over so their faces were close together. He batted his eyelashes. "Shouldn't we seal it with a kiss?" he cooed.

Tom decided the joking offer was just a bit too tempting. Chakotay was probably too sore for another round this evening. But he was charmed by the idea of a coquettish Commander. He kissed the tip of the aquiline nose, then escaped down the hall to the bathroom followed by the sound of a rich chuckle.

"Change the cover, will you?" Tom called over his shoulder. "I'm *not* sleeping under a wet spot."

Chakotay quickly got off the bed, still chortling at Tom's high spirits. He moved the towels and oil to a nightstand and ordered the computer to freshen the bedspread, then sauntered over to the replicator. He considered for a few minutes, but finally put in his costume request. He then hastily pulled the black  
clothes and boots out of the machine and laid them over a chair. He bet Tom would gloat at seeing them. /Funny thing is, I don't mind at all./ 

Chakotay pondered his recent teasing behavior and wondered if Tom was becoming a good influence, or  
bad. Time would tell.

He was still standing in the middle of the room, musing, when Tom bounded out of the doorway, clean and clad in his holographic robe. He stopped in shock when he saw a still naked Chakotay staring into space. He cocked his head. "You really don't have a problem with nudity, do you?"

"What?---No, nor other people's scrutiny, mostly." Chakotay said, strolling toward the bathroom to begin his own ablutions. He paused at the touch of a hand on his shoulder as he passed Tom.

"You might want to consider a warm bath," Tom said, flushing faintly. "I've, um, heard it's, um, soothing." He couldn't believe he felt so awkward passing on the unsolicited advice he'd once gotten from some ambassador trying to convince Tom to try something new in an unused room at an official function.

The guy had failed, of course, and Tom had left the party with a tasty waiter.

"Oh, thanks. I'll try it," Chakotay said, and went off to take his first bath in quite a while.

Tom wandered into the bedroom, noting the pristine bedspread and the black clothes resting on a chair. He wandered over and ran his finger along the T-shirt, and felt renewed arousal at the memory of its holographic twin. /Cool it!/ Tom thought sternly to his nether regions. /Give the guy a break./ 

He grinned and added, /At least for tonight./

Restless, Tom grabbed the towels and returned to the hall. He tossed them into the refresher after he retrieved their uniforms, laying them out on separate chairs. Then it was his turn to pause, simply standing, debating sleepwear. Usually he didn't bother with it, but he also didn't typically have another body in his bed. He and Harry had both worn pajamas, making their time together seem more like a kids' sleepover than a real relationship.

Tom looked at the huge mattress, pictured Chakotay lying on it, and remembered the incredible texture of that warm skin. That decided him. He quickly shucked his robe, pulled back the bright cover and dove between the white sheets underneath. He sighed and settled on his chosen pillow, awaiting another glimpse of his Titan.

Chakotay didn't keep him waiting too long. He'd had a warm soak and found the water was comforting to his faintly throbbing ass, then a quick shower. He was kind of shocked to find himself so unconflicted about the whole situation. 

Three days ago his only thoughts about Tom Paris had been work-related ones, and the very occasional speculation. Now he had not only asked Tom to fuck him, but he also had thoroughly enjoyed the experience after they got past the awkward beginning.

He paused by the replicator, debating whether to dial up some sleep pants. He preferred to go au naturel, but his current bedmate wasn't *exactly* his lover. At least, not a typical one. But the opportunity to feel those tiny tickling hairs against his skin again was just too tempting.

Chakotay adjusted the holographic flooring back to the original plush red carpet and enjoyed the brush of the fibers against the soles of his feet as he crossed the room. The lights were off except for the soft glow from the sconces on either side of the bed.

Tom's appreciative gaze followed the bunch and release of muscle as Chakotay made his way to the other side of their satin-draped island and slid in. The two men faced each other a moment. Tom felt a small swirl of panic again as he looked into those glimmering liquid eyes. "I'm, uh, kind of a restless sleeper, yeah, so I'll try to keep to my side of the bed. Good night, Chak." 

Tom hastily turned his back on the confused expression on the handsome face and snuggled down to sleep.

"Good night, Tom," Chakotay said and lowered the lights. He wasn't quite sure what had set his companion off, but if Tom wanted his space, then so be it. Tom was already being a good sport by staying here at all. Chakotay rolled to face the outer edge of the mattress and settled in for some rest.

***************

Nedal stalked the holographic garden, searching for a sign of his escaped prey. The Regent had sought some privacy after leaving Milady's presence, pacing off his rage at the old woman's presumption.

That meddler had already spoiled his plans to make human pilot Tom Paris his Larat. Now she had the audacity to suggest Nedal *not* pursue the tasty morsel before her own pet, Chakotay (his lip curled at the name), took his place in the royal bed. 

Nedal had taken the time to calm down before returning to the hunt, not wanting to scare off the skittish goband before he was firmly in the Regent's claws. He had used the interval to plot ways of getting Paris off Voyager and into his cabin aboard the flagship. It would be easier to control the golden one on Rutali turf---and to prevent his escape. Nedal wondered briefly if his precautions were an unconscious response to Milady's skeptical opinion of Paris's docility, then dismissed the matter as unimportant. If the human acted up, Nedal would soon teach him it was unwise to cross the Rutali Regent.

Plans in place, Nedal had mingled among the throng gathered in the holodeck, greeting his hosts and his own people with deceptive good cheer. It was only after he realized that Paris had left the party that his temper had sparked again.

His golden eyes roamed the Starfleet uniforms, suddenly lighting on the young dark-haired human Paris had fled to for safety during the reception on the colony world. His eyes narrowed as he focused on his new target.

***************

Harry was being stared at; he knew it. He could feel someone's gaze tracing his form, marking his vulnerable points. It was creepy, and reminded him of a similar experience Tom had mentioned a few nights ago. He'd have to apologize to his friend for scoffing at his story at the time. 

He put down his drink, wondering if it would be better to seek out B'Elanna or Tom or just slip out of the room and head for the safety of his cabin.

After a debate between safety and expediency, Harry moved out of the occupied paths to take a half-hidden shortcut to the exit. The hair prickling on the back of his neck warned him of his tactical error when he suddenly recalled that every teen in every slasher flick Tom had ever shown was doomed the moment they left the safety of the crowd to wander off on their own. /I'm *never* watching those stupid horror films again,/ he swore, walking swiftly down the narrow path.

He yelped and jumped when a hand landed heavily on his shoulder and spun him around. He blinked, then looked up at a fiercely scowling Rutali Regent. "Ca---Can I help you?" he asked, stiffening his spine and dragging his composure back with both hands.

"Yes," Nedal growled, a grating, drawn-out syllable like the low rasp of a blade against the whetstone. 

Harry swallowed and waited for a conversation he just *knew* he wasn't going to like.

"The pilot, Tom Paris. You are his companion, his friend?" Nedal growled.

"Yes," Harry answered, but offered nothing more.

Nedal's eyes slitted as he moved into the human's space, emphasizing the differences in height and build between them. "Where is he?"

/I *seriously* need to apologize to Tom. This guy could definitely weird you out, even at twenty paces./ "I don't know. I haven't seen him lately. Would you like me to help you search the garden?" He tried to ease his way around the Rutali and return to the safety of the party. His chest bounced off a thick forearm as Nedal blocked his path.

"I've already checked. He is no longer in this...setting," the Regent gestured in frustration with the hand that wasn't barring Harry's escape route.

"Oh." Harry gave in with a mental sigh. This person, no matter how disturbing, was Voyager's future host and current guest. "Well, I guess we could check his location with the computer."

"Do it." It wasn't a request.

Harry cleared his throat. "Computer, location of Lieutenant Paris."

"Lieutenant Paris is in Holodeck One," came the immediate reply.

Nedal retrieved his arm and used it to wave Harry back in his original direction, to the exit. "Lead on."

The unusual duo were soon standing in front of the door to the appropriate holodeck. The locked door. Harry edged away (hopefully nonchalantly) from the brooding royal as he re-checked the computer panel. "I can't tell what program is running; it has a numerical code rather than a description. I do know there's a privacy lock engaged."

One clawed hand gestured. "Open it. Or break it---now."

"I can't." Harry turned and drew himself up to his full height, tired of being bullied. "The authorization is Commander Chakotay's, and it's seconded by Captain Janeway. Nobody's using, or even entering, this holodeck without one of *them* giving the OK."

He pointed to an indicator for a communications lockout. "And this means nothing short of a Red Alert or the Captain's personal hail is getting through." He crossed his arms. "If you want to contact Tom, you'll have to talk to her. There's nothing I can do." 

Harry hid his own confusion at the situation. /What in the world is Tom doing in a locked holodeck with *Chakotay*?/ That was a question to be chewed over in the privacy---and security---of his cabin.

"You are dismissed. I will handle the matter myself from here." Nedal's voice was calm, his face very still and composed; it made Harry's whole body tighten with alarm. 

Then the Regent coolly turned and walked back into the garden simulation, leaving Harry to slump against the wall, enervated and unnerved.


	5. Chapter 5

/You are hopeless. Absolutely hopeless,/ Tom reflected with self-disgust as he woke yet again to find himself wrapped around a sleeping Chakotay.

It was the same every time. Chakotay was keeping to his own half of the bed as tacitly agreed, but Tom's body seemed to have a complete disregard for the border. Somehow in the depths of slumber it migrated into forbidden territory, as if drawn to the satin heat of Chakotay's skin.

At least they were facing each other now. Chakotay must have rolled over since the last time Tom skittered back to his own cold section of sheets. The first two times Tom roused it was to the scent of citrus and sandalwood, his face pressed against his bedmate's neck, one hand resting on the bronzed back and the other arm tightly hugging the smooth torso. 

Even his legs were in on the betrayal, entwined with more muscular counterparts like living chains to keep Chakotay in place. Worst of all was his cock. Both times it was nestled under---almost between---those luscious buttocks. /I'm lucky I didn't poke the guy. *That* would have been one hell of a wake-up call./ Strangely, he felt more refreshed than he had in a long time, despite his interrupted sleep.

Tom figured it was almost time to rise. Faint light was starting to arrive through the exposed windows. He used the increased illumination to assess his situation. The two men were practically nose to nose, both on Chakotay's pillow. 

Chakotay's hands rested against Tom's chest, while his own arms were again tightly wrapped around Chakotay. Their legs were a hopeless tangle. Tom used one hand to lift their coverings for a cautious peek. Yep, morning erections were right on schedule, semi-aroused cocks yearning toward each other. Tom shifted slightly, brushing their tips together. He bit his lip to keep from moaning, blood rushing to his cock.

/*That* was not your brightest move, Tommyboy./ He shifted his attention to Chakotay's face, trying to distract himself. He went over a mental checklist. No snoring. No talking. No thrashing (heck, the man barely moved). Doesn't mind being cuddled. /Be honest. Doesn't mind being engulfed./ Tom narrowed his eyes, looking for signs of wetness. No obvious drool.

He kept looking, for pleasure this time, drawing the spread and topsheet down to let his eyes roam over his companion's face and body. Chakotay’s features relaxed in sleep; he looked as innocent as a little boy. Until you noticed how enticing those partly opened lips were. How alluring the sight and feel of the smooth skin curving over solid muscles. 

Tom couldn't hold back his groan this time as his cock got even harder, nudging its partner.

Chakotay roused and opened his eyes to a vision of Tom faintly glowing in the light of morning. The blond hair was sleep-tousled, inviting fingers to muss the short locks even more. The wide mouth quickly curved into a mischievous grin, but blue eyes held the smoke of desire. The rising Rutali sun sparkled on the hairs adorning arms that held Chakotay in a surprisingly strong embrace. 

All he had to do was slide his own hands behind Tom’s neck and they would be fully skin on skin. He glanced down, recalling the odd sensation that woke him. One move and they would be cock on cock too, dark and pale lengths touching, rubbing...

Chakotay felt his own erection stir to fullness. He quickly jerked his focus from their rampant manhoods to meet Tom's knowing grin with an uncertain smile.

"Now that we're both 'up'," Tom's innuendo earned him an eyeroll from his bedmate, "I think I should demonstrate my version of a time-honored survival technique." His eyes danced with mirth and anticipation.

Dark eyes narrowed as Chakotay responded suspiciously, "What can you possibly do here in bed?" He was even more confused when Tom kicked the covers to the bottom of the mattress, leaving them completely exposed.

Tom's expression turned wicked as he leered at the muscled form set off by pristine white sheets. "Rub two sticks together to start a fire," he said, shifting one arm down Chakotay’s back to jerk their hips together. /Ah...that's more like it./

"Oh." The syllable was low and drawn out as Chakotay moaned at the brush of Tom's body against his own. The miniature filaments scattered over the pale skin tantalized, setting his nerve endings tingling. 

Chakotay his arms to curl around Tom’s shoulders. Rubbed his chest against Tom's, feeling the rasp of golden curls against his sensitive nipples. His head went back as he made another low sound, unconsciously offering his throat.

Tom was in sensory heaven as he dove for the skin above the gold-and-crystal seal, which glistened in the dawn. He breathed in Chakotay's scent as he began sucking at the base of the Chakotay’s neck. Tom moved one hand into Chakotay's hair to hold his head in place, while the other spanned Chakotay's butt to keep them thrusting together. He let his fingertips wander along the cleft, pleased at Chakotay's hum of approval.

Chakotay felt long fingers trying to grab his hair. He obliged by arching his neck even more as teeth started to graze his skin. He sent his own hands into the soft waves adorning Tom's head, brushing the skin around the neat ears, tickling behind the lobes. He felt the mouth on his neck pause as Tom issued an appreciative moan.

Taking advantage of Tom's distraction to make his own move, Chakotay cradled Tom's nape and lifted the blond head so he could stare into dilated blue eyes. He stroked his top hand down Tom's side and back, enjoying the textures beneath his hands.

Their lower bodies were still moving together, cocks finding purchase against each other and slick firm bellies. Two sets of eyes closed as their mouths joined, mating in a dance that built the fire between them. Their pace quickened, limbs moving restlessly as the tension increased. Then Tom ripped his mouth from Chakotay's to groan as semen splashed on both their forms. 

The heat of Tom's release set off Chakotay’s and he gave a low growl as his cum joined the liquids coating their sweaty, panting bodies.

"Well, Lieutenant, you've impressed me again." The Commander kept a straight face as he continued. "That was quite a blaze you created. Your fire-starting skills are certainly more advanced than mine. Perhaps you should lead the next survival exercise---"

"No! I mean, no thanks, it only works in particular settings," Tom got into the spirit of the teasing as his gaze drifted over his companion, "and needs *very* specific materials for ignition."

Chakotay grinned and quirked an eyebrow. "So the exact circumstances must be reproduced to achieve similar results? I'll keep that in mind."

Tom relaxed and returned the grin, comfortable with this easygoing Chakotay. He was sorry to hear the computer warn, "The time is now 0700."

"Rise and shine," Chakotay said, but thought /In this light, you already do./ He stretched and almost stopped midway, flustered, when he felt blue eyes ranging up and down his body. "Do you want the shower first?"

/No, what I want is you while *we're* in the shower. Then leaning on the sink, maybe against a wall in the hallway, and when we get back to the bedroom.../ Tom cut off his lascivious imaginings with a blink. "Uh, sure," he said and beat a hasty retreat to the bathroom.

Chakotay got up, conjured a robe and began punching in a breakfast order. He was a little confused by Tom's attitude. First he agreed to help Chakotay, then backed out. Without warning he changed his mind again. Tom practically ignored Chakotay's reactions when they first got into bed last night, then tenderly initiated him into the ways of male-male sex. As they went to sleep Tom insisted on keeping a distance between them, but woke Chakotay with both of them sharing his pillow for a hot quickie. *Then* Tom practically achieves warp speed running to the bathroom.

/I don't understand him, that's for sure. But I'd like to; I'd very much like to./ Chakotay had always been aware of Tom Paris's breezy appeal, but now he found himself more and more attracted, and not just physically. 

He sighed and pulled a tray of covered dishes from the replicator. On the way to a small table with two chairs, he decided not to think about Tom, or the situation. Tom was helping him prepare to share Nedal's bed. That was the true purpose of their time together. 

All the reasons for Tom not wanting a real relationship with Chakotay still existed. And he would do well to keep that firmly in mind.

***************

Tom debated turning off the hot water as he quickly washed Chakotay's semen and his own from his body. Perhaps an icy shower was just what he needed to snap back to cold reality. /Fact One: Chakotay *isn't* your type. He knows it; you know it. Fact Two: He would never have approached you if he didn't need your help. In four years neither of you showed the slightest interest in the other. Fact Three: You're teaching a temporary paramour before handing him over to another man. That's it; nothing but a favor between friends./

Tom stepped out of the cubicle and wiped condensation off the mirror. He stared into blue eyes softened and filled with the afterglow of pleasure. He tightened his mouth and brows sternly. /It isn't important how much you *like* having Chakotay as a lover, in and out of bed. Keep your mind on the job, Paris. A week from now you'll both be pretending this never happened./ 

He sighed. /No matter how much you wish otherwise./

He quickly dried off and dressed in a photonic robe to sit down to breakfast with Chakotay. He lifted the cover off his dish in surprise. "Peanut butter toast? How did you know I like peanut butter toast?" He dug into the warm, perfectly crisp PB-slathered slices with relish, washing them down with the still-cold glass of milk.

Chakotay smiled at Tom's obvious delight. "I just checked your replicator history. That seemed a more appropriate way to startthe day than tomato soup and grilled cheese."

Tom swallowed and forgot all his minutes-old admonitions as he entered a lighthearted debate. "Have you ever *had* soup for breakfast?"

A dark eyebrow quirked. "No, but---"

"It's a perfectly acceptable method of nutrition, vitamins and minerals in a broth of warm tasty goodness. Some Asian cultures thrive on it. And you know what they say: 'Don't knock it 'til you've tried it'." Tom shook his finger, trying not to laugh.

Chakotay's eyes twinkled. "Well," he drawled, "I'll make sure to follow your advice, since the proverb held so true last night..." he was pleased not to blush this time, "...and this morning."

Tom nearly choked on his mouthful of milk as he realized exactly what Chakotay referred to. He looked up and caught the "Gotcha!" in the amused gaze and nearly lost it again.

Dimples flashed as Chakotay grinned. Then he drained his cup of tea and set it down with a hesitant expression. "Tom, I was wondering if you would let me make you dinner."

Tom’s forehead wrinkled in puzzlement. "I don't remember anything in that book about needing to know how to prepare meals."

"Oh, there isn't. I just wanted to say 'Thank you.' For everything that you're doing." Chakotay shrugged. "I programmed a palace garden...maybe we could dine al fresco?"

Tom's mind was saying /No. No. No. You were going to keep this casual. Dinner together----bad. Bad. Bad. Bad./ But he looked at that handsome, hopeful face and said, "Yes." He couldn't deny (though he tried to) his joy at seeing the delighted smile that resulted.

Chakotay *knew* he shouldn't be so happy about this. /Just keep telling yourself, it's not a date./ "That's great. Shall we meet here at 1900?" At Tom's nod he continued. "I'm sorry that I'm picking the setting again after saying that you could, but I'd like to try and get familiar with different places on Ruta before...you know."

Tom was rather surprised that he hadn't minded---or even noticed---that discrepancy in their arrangements. He let his companion off the hook. "No problem. You handle the venue and the food," he gave an exaggerated leer, "and *I'll* arrange the entertainment." /Gotcha!/ he thought as he earned his first blush of the day.

Chakotay decided he needed some cool water for his burning cheeks. He felt like closing the throat of his robe against the brush of that interested gaze. He'd never been so affected just by the touch of another person's eyes. He pushed his chair back and rose. "I'll see you on the bridge," he said and fled.

Tom finished his breakfast with a satisfied grin, dressed, then exited the holodeck to begin the day.

***************

Harry shifted on Tom's couch, anxious for his pal to arrive. He'd spent a restless night wrestling with nebulous concerns stirred up by the Rutali Regent's behavior and very concrete questions about the odd situation between Tom and Chakotay.

He'd set the computer to let him know when the communications and/or privacy lock was released from the holodeck. It never sounded, so apparently his best friend had spent all night with the First Officer.

Harry had gotten ready early this morning, then let himself into Tom's cabin to await his friend's arrival. He was so keyed up that he paced, then chose a seat, fidgeted, and got up to pace again. He'd just plopped onto the small sofa when Tom breezed in.

And stopped in shock to see someone on his couch. "Uh, hi Harry. What brings you to La Maison de Paris so bright and early?"

"Where have you been? What's going on with you and Chakotay that would have you locked down in the holodeck for 12 hours?" Harry had gotten up to pace. "Are you in trouble? Was it some kind of disciplinary thing?" 

He stopped in front of the blond. "Nobody but the Captain could contact you."

"Easy, Har, slow down. Take a breath. Take a seat," Tom tried to stall for time to come up with an answer that didn't break his promise to keep quiet about his and Chakotay's arrangement. He steered his still-jittery friend back to the couch and pushed him onto the cushions. Then he sauntered over to the replicator. "Can I get you anything? Drink of water? Eggs Benedict?"

"Answers, Tom. All I want are answers." Harry crossed his arms and did his best impression of He Who Will Not Be Moved.

"It's not a big deal," Tom shrugged, affecting a casual air. "Chakotay asked for my help on a...project, and we got so caught up in the details that we decided to crash on the holodeck instead of heading back to our cabins." /Yeah, that sounds good./

Harry's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "What kind of 'project' would involve the both of you---and no one else?"

"It's a...kind of present, for the Rutali. For when we reach the homeworld. A very special gift." Tom sobered as he considered the truth of his statement. "It's for Nedal, actually."

Harry jumped up at the mention of the Regent. "He's the real reason I'm here, Tom. Last night, he was trying to find you. He was *very* insistent about contacting you."

He paced with remembered agitation. "There's something not right about that guy, royalty or no. He gave me the creeps." 

Harry stopped in front of Tom. "We went to Holodeck One last night and discovered the lockout. I don't think he was happy to learn you were with Chakotay."

"Did he say anything?" Tom tensed in his own reaction to the mention of the intimidating alien.

"No." Harry answered. "But he gave off a really menacing vibe."

"Well, there's not much I can do about the situation." Tom said, trying to shake off his unease. "We're going to be having meetings back and forth between our ships all week. The best I can hope for is to stay out of his way."

Harry’s brow furrowed. "Don't be alone with him, OK Tom? He's major bad news."

"I'll do my best." Tom's lips quirked. "I don't suppose I could just hide under the covers for the next few days. Or tell the Captain to change all her plans 'cause the Rutali head honcho gives us the heebie-jeebies."

Harry laughed. "I'm not even sure if I could spell that for the report."

Tom headed to the bathroom, dropping a grateful hand on his friend's shoulder as he passed. "Thanks for the warning, Har. I'm going to brush my teeth. You want to head out? I'll meet you on the bridge."

Harry sat back down on the couch. "Not a chance, buddy. The least I could do is give you an escort."

Tom's voice wafted from the tiny room. "Just make sure my corsage matches my uniform."

Harry chuckled and relaxed into his seat, wondering what kind of gift the Commander and Tom were planning for Nedal. /I know what I'd like give him. A genuine Starfleet issue boot. Mine. Toe first./

***************************************************************

"You want me to *what*?" Chakotay kept his voice down; he couldn't possibly have heard Milady correctly. She and Sisryn had pulled him into a secluded corner of the conference room during a break in an "information exchange" aboard Voyager. 

The Commander was already keyed up from a tense shift on the bridge, trying to decode the nonverbal messages flying between Tom and Harry. Adding to the stressed atmosphere were the odd looks both the Ensign and the Captain were bestowing upon Tom and himself. All in all, his day had been going downhill since he stepped out of the holodeck that morning.

Milady's absurd request didn't improve it.

"I said, we want you to seduce the Regent." Milady regarded Chakotay with faint exasperation. She had come up with the scheme after Nedal had abandoned her in the garden the night before, leaving the air thick with threats. She decided to explain. "It's obvious that he's not interested in you, even though you're the Larat. The pride leaders are starting to notice his indifference. You need to get his attention, now, and keep it."

She leaned closer and lowered her voice even more. "Nedal is a virile man, and you are an attractive one. Given the right persuasion, he won't mind if you begin your duties a few days early."

Chakotay's lips tightened. "But I will."

"Because of your friend, right?" Sisryn quickly answered the man's surprised expression. "There's a---a glow about you, Chakotay." She blushed. "It's obvious he changed his mind."

Chakotay could feel himself blushing and wanted to hide his face in his hands. At this rate he'd have permanent scorch marks on his cheeks by the end of the week. "Yes. He's agreed to help me prepare until we reach Ruta." 

He met the two women's eyes. "I am not the sort of person who cheats on a lover. Even a temporary one."

"I understand that, Chakotay, but this is not a matter of sex, but politics." Milady lightly gripped a black-sleeved arm. "The title of Regent is not a hereditary one. Nedal holds his power through a delicate balance of intimidation and perception. This situation could upset that balance and lead to a power struggle. If it does, you, as the Larat, will not escape unscathed. You could be viewed as less than worthy for not attracting Nedal, or even end up serving someone else. It could happen, if his position is challenged and he is defeated by another."

Sisryn touched Chakotay's other hand. "I know that this is not your problem, Chakotay, but please try to see things from our point of view. Nedal may not be the wisest man, but he has brought stability to our government. As I told you when the offer of Larat was extended, your tenure of service could be a guarantee that Nedal's reign will last. It makes sense that your reward---your trip through the wormhole---would reflect that. *If* nothing disruptive happens before your term begins. Surely avoiding upheaval is worth the inconvenience."

Chakotay sighed and gently pulled free of both their grips. "No, Sisryn, Milady, it isn't. I'm sorry, but this is more than convenience, or sex or even politics." 

He looked from one woman to the other. "It's a matter of honor. And I will not compromise mine, even if it would shorten Voyager's journey. I would do much to ensure the well-being of my people, and help yours, but not that."

His conscience pricked him to attempt some comfort for the crestfallen women. "I *will* try to engage him in conversation, find out if we have any similar interests. Perhaps that will generate some reaction. Hopefully a more positive one than pure uninterest."

"I hope so, Chakotay, I truly hope so." Milady looked into implacable dark eyes. "I also hope that this lover of yours is worth it."

Chakotay met her gaze without hesitation. "Make no mistake, Milady. He is."

***************

Nedal's golden eyes were currently fixed on the cozy little trio just returning from a sojourn in the corner of the room. His gaze flicked over the human who wore the crystal seal, expecting the same shivery awareness he'd generated in Tom Paris and his young friend. Instead, the Regent was surprised that his trip back up the loose-fitting uniform ended with Chakotay's calm and unafraid expression. He even saw the dark eyes warm a little as the Commander offered a courteous nod and small smile. /So, this one who would be the Larat does not quail at the hunter's gaze./

The Rutali could not deny the human's attractive qualities. Though older than some of the other Voyager crew, the liquid eyes, fine features, and smooth skin were indeed pleasing to look upon. No doubt they would be just as enjoyable upon closer acquaintance with Nedal's own anatomy.

But Chakotay had not the fair curly locks or sky-blue eyes of Tom Paris. Most definitely, he also did not share the slight fear his goband exhibited when he shivered in Nedal's claws.

From experience, that awareness of danger always led to complete submission. The same would hold true with the blond pilot when he felt Rutali passion.

The Commander did not seem to share that...respect...for the Regent's superiority. *That* one held himself differently, moved as if he owned the ground he walked on as well as all he surveyed.

/Perhaps he thinks he owns Tom Paris as well,/ Nedal mused. He had been furious to learn that the golden one was out of *his* reach last night, but apparently completely available to Chakotay. One who did not lead this ship or its pride. /By the Celestials, the man bows down to a tiny woman I could snap in two!/

The Regent smiled without mirth. He watched the assorted Voyager crew and Rutali reassemble around the conference table as he returned to his seat. /I think it's time to exchange a little information./

"Captain," Nedal noticed the female did not startle easily either, "I have been studying human theories about their own development. There is one I find most intriguing. It is called 'Survival of the Fittest'."

"Yes, that is part of a principle called 'Natural Selection'." Kathryn propped her elbows on the table as she answered. "Basically, it views life as a struggle in which similar organisms compete for resources. Those best adapted to the environment are most likely to live long enough to find mates and reproduce."

"That's the one. It seems very Rutali in its sentiment." Nedal relaxed and folded his hands, claws sheathed. "Except in rare circumstances, leadership of the prides, and even the Regent's office, is contingent upon one's ability to fend off rivals to their claim."

"It does sound like a prime demonstration of the theory in practice." Janeway agreed. "There are sometimes examples in Federation cultures as well."

"Which makes me curious...how can *you* be the leader of Voyager's pride?" Nedal was pleased by the stunned reactions around the table. "Your First Officer seems to be a strong enough man, yet he obeys you instead of taking this ship for himself."

His gaze flicked to the Larat. "Perhaps that appearance of power is mere illusion, and he is as weak as his submissive position to you." 

The Regent leaned forward, pressing his point home as he extended a claw and drew vague shapes on the tabletop in a desultory fashion. "I have learned that the Commander was a captain himself, who lost his ship at the start of your great journey. Such a failure among our people would result in a decrease in stature. The loser would be stripped of title, position, wealth, property, *mate*"---meaningful look at Tom Paris---"...perhaps even life. They would be deemed unworthy of *any* possessions."

Nedal took advantage of the continued silence to lean back and swivel his chair to face Chakotay. "Perhaps you can explain, Commander. Why you are lapdog to an obviously weaker opponent, how you can still hold a post of some responsibility among your people. How you could have this crew's respect, and why would *anyone*"---another speaking glance at the golden one---"be willing to spend time with such a unworthy being as yourself."

As soon as he became the topic of discussion Chakotay had sent an inquiring glance to Milady and Sisryn. They shook their heads slightly indicating their surprise at Nedal's attack, but he sensed secrets in the way they evaded his gaze. /So much for civil discourse./ Cool brown eyes narrowed slightly as Chakotay lightly touched Kathryn's wrist, defusing the explosion he felt building within his quietly growling Captain.

"It's easy enough to explain," Chakotay said, completely unruffled. "With all due respect, Regent Nedal, you don't have all the facts. While it is true, 'Survival of the Fittest' does occur in nature and in humanoid societies, it does not express the code we all live by. That principle is contained in Starfleet's unofficial motto, 'The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few---or the one'."

Chakotay's voice fell into the age-old rhythm of the storyteller. "It is true, my vessel was brought to the Delta Quadrant by the Caretaker some days before Voyager, and was in better shape after the trip. Voyager was a crippled ship, with a disoriented crew---perfect targets. But Captain Janeway and her people were also fellow unfortunates, tossed a galaxy away from home. When she offered an alliance, I thought my people would best be served by cooperation until we could make our return."

He cast a glance around the table as he continued the tale, "So we worked together to find kidnapped crew and arrange our trip back to the Alpha Quadrant. Unfortunately, our actions incurred the wrath of a race called the Kazon. During battle, I lost my ship because it was the only way to save Voyager, the much larger vessel." 

He spread his hands. "The needs of the many took precedence. Then Captain Janeway offered a new, permanent alliance. To build one crew, one people. And she wanted my help."

Chakotay shrugged. "No one's needs but my own would have been served if I tried to wrest control of Voyager from her. So I accepted the position of First Officer. I made a promise to stay by my new Captain's side, to lighten her burdens and share her path. I have given my word, and I will not break it."

Chakotay looked into each set of golden Rutali eyes in the room. "If that appears weak to you then so be it. But I tell you now there are many kinds of strength: the bonds of community, the power of conviction, the integrity of personal commitment." 

His expression turned bleak at painful memories. "I wish there was a way to make you understand. I have killed enemies with my bare hands, squeezed out their lives as I watched the light die from their eyes. It was necessary, to save myself and those under my protection." 

He paused. "But it is not a cause for rejoicing, or a sign of strength. If you cannot see this, then my words will never change your way of thinking."

Chakotay looked at Nedal. "Your standards are valid for your own people, but it is unwise to measure others by them." He then spoke to the Regent only, his message clear, "You would also do well not to judge by appearances. We are all more than we seem, and there is no telling what anyone will do when their family is threatened."

Nedal conceded for now, but his anger shimmered in the air around him. "Your answer has been most enlightening, Larat. May you continue to so successfully represent your people." He rose, signaling the end of the meeting. "I think we have all been given enough to think about this day."

Kathryn was a little shocked to be offered an apologetic bow from the Regent as she also stood. "Pray forgive me, Captain, for my *hypothetical* question. I merely wished to provoke discussion. I am sure you are a worthy leader in both peace and war." The accompanying smile was still rather menacing.

"Thank you," Kathryn’s own smile was tight as she moved to escort the Rutali out of the conference room. "I'm sure we can arrange some proof, if you have any doubts about my qualifications."

"There is no need." He stopped and kissed her hand gallantly, "Good evening."

The Captain noted that the golden eyes had again moved to study Tom. "No need to part so soon, Sir. I will escort you to the transporter room myself. All of you," she said, her gaze flicking over the other Rutali representatives, including a subdued Sisryn and a speculative Milady.

Kathryn then waved a black-clad arm to round up the few straggling pride leaders who were part of the day's delegation. "Now, you must all be eager to return to your vessel. Please, follow me." She made sure to wait outside the door until all of the Rutali preceded her, then herded them down the corridor---subtly, of course. When a glowering Nedal looked back toward Tom her smile just got wider.

***************

Harry stuck to Tom's side as they entered the corridor. He still had bad feelings about the looks Nedal had been sending Tom. /And damn, could the guy make it any more obvious he hates Chakotay?/ "How about we get dinner and then head to Sandrine's to shoot some pool?"

Tom shook his head. "Um, no thanks, I already have plans. I'm just going to grab a quick shower and have a working dinner with Chakotay. You know, for that project I mentioned this morning."

Tom felt a gentle grip on his arm and hot breath caress his ear as Chakotay slipped beside him, then held him back a moment to whisper, "What a pity. I was so looking forward to getting slick, sudsy hands in your hair. *All* of it." Then he was gone, gliding down the hall, pausing to say good evening to Harry.

/He wants to wash my hair? Chakotay wants to.../ Tom's imagination helpfully supplied him with a picture, certainly worth more than the one or two words Tom could come up with. He hoped his eagerness (and incipient hard-on) weren't too obvious as he dashed past Harry, who had turned back to see what was keeping his friend. 

Tom called out, "Wait up, Commander!" When Chakotay paused, Tom called over his shoulder, "Sorry, Har, but I think Chakotay and I need to get started---right now."

Tom didn't stick around to see Harry's reaction to his friend's enthusiasm as he hurried to Chakotay's side.

Tom wanted to grab the gorgeous brunet and run full speed to the holodeck, but managed to keep to his companion's more sedate pace until they reached the appropriate door.

A burning blue gaze caressed Chakotay. "I guess we could just use holographic toothbrushes this time. Then we wouldn't have to leave until shift starts tomorrow."

"Sounds like you've got it all planned." Chakotay's eyes were twinkling, but also radiating the heat of desire.

"Oh, yes, I definitely have plans for you," Tom said in a voice so throaty he barely recognized it as his own. Then he followed his Titan onto the holodeck and heard the door click shut behind them.


	6. Chapter 6

/I'm hopeless. Absolutely hopeless,/ Sisryn thought as she sat at a table in a small salon aboard the Rutali flagship. She faced away from the viewport, slumped over her nearly full glass. She took another tiny sip of the amber-colored liquid, grimaced at the taste, and pushed the drink away. /I can't even manage to get drunk properly./

The Chief Consul had been absolutely appalled by the Regent's behavior aboard Voyager this day. It was unheard of to verbally attack the Larat, especially one who had the endorsement of Milady. It was clear nothing Sisryn had said these last few days affected Nedal one whit. He had ignored her warnings to be more discreet, disregarded her pleas to stop pursuing Tom Paris. Now he had sparred with Chakotay, unsuccessfully at that.

Sisryn hadn't even bothered to check her reports. She didn't want to read about unrest in the prides caused by Nedal's fixation on the blond pilot. Or the loss of income because Privilege was no longer sought for a Larat who couldn't attract the Regent, not to mention one who dared defy him. *And* express such un-Rutali sentiments while doing so.

/If only what Chakotay said didn't make so much sense./ Sisryn folded her arms on the table and put her head down, wondering if she could just hide out here for the remainder of the trip. Or maybe the rest of her natural existence.

"*There* you are!" Milady's good mood seemed to fill the available space as she swept into the small room. "And you're celebrating already." The older woman hopped onto the table and snatched the glass, draining it in one go and smacking her lips in satisfaction.

She peered at the unmoving Consul. "How did you get the news before me?" Milady asked curiously.

"What news?" Sisryn's voice was depressed as well as slightly obstructed by her position. "I'm just trying to drink myself into an oblivious stupor."

"Not very efficiently," Milady said dryly as she noted the near-full bottle on the table. She poured herself another shot and raised her hand in a toast. "To a most interesting encounter."

"*Interesting*?" The absurd choice of word brought up the younger woman's head. "Try disastrous, ruinous, atrocious---"

"But it wasn't any of those things, Sisryn." Milady looked down. "You really don't know?"

"Know what?" Sisryn responded sulkily. She was getting tired of parroting her elder like an idiot.

"Why, the sensation our feisty Larat has caused on the homeworld. The pride leaders were...intrigued...by Chakotay's show of spirit this evening. It seems the Rutali are ready for a Chosen with a mind of his own." Milady regarded her companion, "They're looking forward to watching Nedal break him in."

"Break him in, or just plain break him?" Sisryn replied, eyes now suspicious slits.

"That look is wasted on me, young lady. As far as I'm aware people are merely curious to see who will be tamed, the Larat---or the Regent." Milady leaned nose-to-nose with the Consul, serious now. "And if it comes down to a true battle of wills, so much the better for the price of Privilege. Everyone knows challenge adds value to the prize and makes a victory sweeter." 

She sat up. "We are hunters, Sisryn, not prey. You'd best remember who and what you are."

"I know what I am,” Sisryn snapped “Chief Consul to the Regent. Sworn by oath and seal to serve and be loyal to whoever holds the title and crystal."

Sisryn leaned back against the chair, musing aloud as she stared into space. "I was in here despairing over the shambles Nedal was making of things. Now you tell me that all is well: the prides have decided to ignore the Regent's distraction and blond obsession until he has a chance to test his mettle against the Larat. Chakotay's small show of defiance---no matter how courteous---makes him more desirable, not less. Because people think it will be amusing to see Nedal bend this human to his will. How very Rutali of us all."

She picked up the bottle, silently toasted Milady and took a swig. She gagged, coughed, put the alcohol down and slumped in defeat.

"Yes, it *is* the essence of our people, the test, the proof of strength. Truly, 'Survival of the Fittest'." Milady gestured. "This is the best possible response to the situation, considering the alternative is a new round of anarchy and chaos. So you should be rejoicing that people are anticipating the arrival of the Larat, not gearing up for another battle for the Regent's seal."

Milady took pity on the conflicted woman before her. "You've always been a little different, Sisryn. That's what makes the Chief Consul's position so perfect for you. You are not affiliated with any pride, and absolutely loyal to the Regent, *whoever* wears the seal. That neutrality isolates you from the incessant push and shove for power that is most Rutalis' day-to-day existence."

"But does it have to be that way?" Sisryn looked into the older woman's eyes. "I can't stop thinking about what Chakotay said, about honor and community."

"Maybe that works for the humans, Sisryn, but the Rutali have always been ruled by the force of will. I doubt anything can change that, certainly not a few words from an alien who won't be with us for more than a month." Milady put down her drink and rested one veined hand on a hunched shoulder. "Just continue to do your duty to the Regent, and forget these vague philosophical conundrums. You're safe from the claws and conspiracies of politics. So you really don't have the right to judge the actions or attitudes of those who don't have the protection of your office."

"But I can't even do my job. Nedal is completely ignoring me. I should just find a hidden lair and disappear until this is all over." Sisryn grumbled.

"The Regent has chosen a course of action. What you need to do now is wait and see its outcome, and prepare to deal with the repercussions." Milady smiled and stood with Sisryn, then leaned in to whisper wickedly, "Come, you should get something to eat and go to bed. You don't want to have circles under your eyes when you see Chakotay tomorrow, do you?"

"Milady!" The Chief Consul was scandalized. /To even imply I would pursue the Larat right under the Regent's nose!/

The old Rutali just laughed and pushed her companion out of the lounge.

************************************************************

Tom was surprised to walk into a holodeck that was still a stark grid, except for a contraption humming quietly in the far corner. Curiosity temporarily displaced his lust. "What's a refrigerator doing in here, Chak?"

Chakotay looked up from the control panel he had crossed to. "It's really a stasis unit; it looks like a fridge because that must have matched the scenario the last person called up in here."

He began inputting commands. "I wanted to keep the food fresh but the holodeck available to the rest of the crew. So I made the unit a permanent fixture, masked to blend into its environment."

Tom tilted his head. "So you're actually cooking?"

Chakotay nodded. "Not a whole lot, but yes."

"*Can* you cook?" Tom's dubious expression earned a laugh from his companion.

"Of course." Chakotay gave him an odd look. "Why, can't you?"

"Nah, I'm more of a restaurant/replicator kind of guy." He whistled as the palace garden shimmered into existence. "I'll give the Rutali one thing, they certainly do have style."

The two men now stood in a vast courtyard. A large oblong swimming pool sat in the center, its water sparkling in the afternoon sun. Tiny tiles formed fanciful patterns around its edge, broken up by the lounges and table-and-chair sets scattered about. Beyond the mosaic perimeter a beautiful garden lay waiting to be admired. Tropical flowers with deep green leaves shared space with what looked like a mix of palm and fruit trees. One corner of the quadrangle formed by the balcony-filled walls enclosing the space held a fountain. Fish statues spouted water in playful abandon, and a raised rim invited one to sit and stare into its water-lily-accented depths.

The corner nearest the fountain had a table and two padded high-backed benches, a counter, a small cabinet and the stasis unit, which had transformed to match the light wood of the other furniture. Unlit torches and lamps stood here and there, ready to provide illumination.

Chakotay spoke. "I suggest we hit the water first. These walls are so high we'll be in shadow long before the sun actually goes down."

"OK.” Tom looked at the archways surrounding the garden. “Which way's the tub?"

Chakotay chuckled. "You're looking at it. The pool is the temperature of bath water, and chemical-free." He pointed out an archway. "The refresher and other facilities are through there."

He called for the computer to add a raft to the pool, then turned to Tom. "Feel free to swim first, but don't dive. I don't think the pool is that deep. When you're ready to bathe, just climb up on the float. It'll be easier for me that way."

"All right." Tom moved through the archway and quickly found the refresher unit. He stripped and created a robe, reacting to an uncharacteristic attack of shyness. /You'd better get over it pretty quick, Tommyboy. He's not going to wash you through cloth, you know./

As he was leaving the archway he passed a robed Chakotay carrying a woven bag. "Seemed inappropriate to just carry my dirty uniform around," he shrugged. Tom waited while Chakotay dumped his clothes into the cleansing apparatus and turned it on, then set his boots underneath it beside Tom's.

Tom turned away from that cozy image, hurrying back into the courtyard to cast aside his robe and move into the warm, clear water. The deep blue tiles lining the pool and cloudless sky above made him feel like he had his own private bit of ocean to play in. He took a breath and explored the bottom.

As he came up for air he saw a sleek bronzed shape gliding under the surface as Chakotay traveled the length of the pool, turned and came back to the staircase built into one end. Chakotay’s head finally broke through as he gracefully slowed, rolled over, and settled to lounge on the underwater steps. The Rutali seal bobbed in front of him as the liquid counteracted some of its weight.

Tom caught wavy glimpses of smooth skin through the water, and quickly began swimming again. He didn't want to just jump his new lover. Today he was determined to demonstrate at least a modicum of restraint.

*That* plan went up in smoke when he finished a handful of laps to find Chakotay covered in suds. The muscled figure was standing on the tiles beside the pool, glistening in the sun. He'd apparently started his own cleansing, since his hair was a mass of white foam and he'd begun soaping his body.

Tom rested in the water, riveted, his limbs gently pulled to and fro by the liquid's buoyant caress. Chakotay seemed completely unselfconscious as powerful hands spread lather along a muscled leg and well-made foot. /Damn, should have done three laps, not five. Then I could have been here for the whole show./

Chakotay looked up as he became aware of those eyes touching him again. He glanced into the water to see Tom floating like some sea creature of legend, a golden god emerging from a bed of ocean blue. /Perhaps siren would be more appropriate; he certainly has the power to lure me to my doom./

He finished his other leg and carefully stepped back into the water, watching the suds disperse from his body as more and more of his skin submerged. He sank to the bottom, staying under a bit to make sure all the soap was out of his hair. When he came up for air he saw Tom had draped his long body face down on the raft, and was now aimlessly floating along the surface of the pool.

Tom managed to suppress his initial instinctive urge to grab the man and drag him to the nearest poolside lounge for a thorough ravishment. /Prometheus is associated with fire, my Titan. You're supposed to be *less* desirable when wet./ 

He practically flew onto the float, hiding his eyes in his crossed arms. He did *not* want to see Chakotay rising from the water surrounded by a rainbow of scattered droplets, flinging his head back and raising his hands to swipe his eyes clear and hair into place. He shivered with desire when the image appeared in his mind, unbidden but undeniably arousing.

"Are you cold, Tom?" Chakotay laid a hand lightly on the pale back, concerned that his companion would catch a chill. "I could raise the ambient temperature if you're not comfortable."

"I'm fine. Just get started." He peeked under his lashes as Chakotay asked for the bath gel to be moved to a small float beside him, then a stack of towels to be placed just beyond the water's edge. "What, no loofah?" Tom asked flippantly, covering another shiver as he watched lather forming in the cradle of those powerful hands.

"Well, no. I was going to give you a mini-rubdown at the same time." Chakotay tilted his head in inquiry. "But you're the boss here. I could call up a sponge or a washcloth if you prefer. I don't know what the Rutali use."

"No, no that's okay. Whatever you were going to do is fine." He quickly put his head back down, anticipating the touch of those slick fingers on his skin.

Chakotay started at the slender neck. He sensed Tom's nervousness, so he repeated his pattern from the massage a few days before. He rested his hands on the pale flesh, noting the contrast against his own darker tone. He waited a few moments, then began to rhythmically spread the soap, rubbing away some new tension as well as the accumulated stress from the "information exchange" with Nedal. He shifted slightly to carefully press against the muscles, feeling the outline of the fine bones of shoulder blades and spine and ribs. He dipped his hands in the water and mixed the liquid with another dollop of gel, creating more foam.

He could feel the tension in Tom’s body return when he moved down to work on the narrow waist and hips. He stopped again, splaying his hands over the small of Tom's back. "Is something wrong?"

Tom could sense the concern. /He's not going to *do* anything, Tommyboy. He said you were in charge. It's just like the other day, without the towel./ He took a deep breath and deliberately loosened his muscles. "Nope, no problem."

Chakotay didn't answer, just started moving his hands again, creating soothing circles that gradually shifted from Tom's back to the pale moons reflecting the sunlight. He caressed the firm globes, careful not to spend too much time in any one spot. As the suds slid along the creamy flesh, Chakotay had a sudden desire to do more, to part Tom’s buttocks and explore what lay between and within. Instead, he simply washed the entire area quickly but thoroughly and moved on.

He got more gel for Tom's legs and feet, and felt the stiffness in the long limbs dissipate the further he concentrated on less intimate territory. /I wonder what Tom thought I was going to do./ 

Chakotay smiled at the knowledge that Tom trusted Chakotay enough to let him continue his efforts, despite Tom’s unvoiced concerns. He hoped that, in the short time they were together, Tom would learn there was nothing to fear.

Tom felt warm water carrying the suds away as Chakotay rinsed his back. He was truly relaxed now that he had proof that Chakotay wasn't going to take advantage of Tom in this new situation. He felt a soft touch on his shoulder and opened his eyes. "Turn over, please," Chakotay said.

The raft held steady under Chakotay’s hands as Tom shifted. Tom turned his face up to the sky, content for the moment just to bask in the warmth from sun and water and his lover's hands. He almost moaned in bliss as his scalp was massaged for long minutes by sudsy fingers. "Well, I'll give you full marks for your bathside manner, Chak."

Chakotay grinned. "Why thank you sir, but you should reserve judgement until you've had the full treatment." He rinsed his hands in the water, then soaped up again to lightly clean Tom’s smiling face. He moved to the tempting throat, then down the shoulders to lift one long arm and extend it, massaging and lathering underneath then down its length.

Tom happened upon an odd expression on Chakotay’s face when he opened his eyes. "What are you thinking about?"

Chakotay looked up, startled, and smiled. "I was just admiring your hands." He held one palm to palm against his own, measuring the long pale fingers. "There are always such poetic words to describe hands like yours: elegant, delicate, slender, fine-boned."  
He chuckled ruefully and quirked his brows. "The best I've ever gotten is 'capable'. It doesn't have quite the same panache."

Tom took a few seconds to consider as Chakotay drifted around the raft to soap the matching limb. "How about powerful, or clever? Reassuring, strong." He blushed at the surprise in the deep brown eyes.

"Thanks, Tom. I'll keep them in mind." Chakotay returned Tom's arm to the float and began soaping the gold-furred chest. He luxuriated in the sudsy swirls of hair against his palms and fingers as he worked his way down to the pale abdomen. He delicately handled the half-roused cock and balls, again resisting the temptation to linger uninvited. 

Then Chakotay briskly massaged the slender thighs and calves, ending again with the narrow feet.

Tom had almost thrust up into those sure hands, seeking more contact, but didn't. He lay back again as his legs were cleansed, eyes closed.

"Ready for the rinse?" Chakotay asked. If Tom were looking, his survival instincts would have kicked in at the wicked glee on Chakotay’s face.

"Yep---" was all Tom had time to say before Chakotay flipped the raft, dumping Tom into the water.

Chakotay swiftly swam for the stairs, intent on getting out of the pool and away from the most obvious means of revenge.

Tom came up for air, soap free, laughing and sputtering. "I can't believe you did that!" he said as he lunged for a trim retreating ankle. When he missed he stood at the bottom of the steps and called, "Computer, one full-sized mattress two meters from my position."

Chakotay tripped over the edge of his sudden obstacle, hitting the soft surface with an "Oof." He quickly rolled over, just in time to see a lean naked form sailing through the air to land on top of him, again robbing him of breath.

Tom shook his dripping head, spattering the sleek figure under him as he grabbed Chakotay's wrists and pinned them on either side of Chakotay’s head. "I think it's time for your lesson."

"In what, payback?" Chakotay challenged, lifting his chin defiantly but struggling to bring some control to his smile.

Tom focused on the lushly carved lips. "No, oral sex." He hovered over the rosy curves a moment, letting his captive feel the puff of his breath. "Pay attention, there'll be a quiz later."

Then he descended, using his tongue to tease open Chakotay’s mouth so he could harvest the sweetness within. He brushed over teeth and gums and palate, exploring, occasionally pausing when Chakotay's tongue wrapped around his own to stroke leisurely and draw him in even deeper.

After a few minutes of mouth-to-mouth recreation, Tom used a knee to part bronzed muscular thighs and settle himself between them. He leaned his head back and released Chakotay's wrists. "You ready?" 

"For anything," Chakotay replied, opening his eyes to meet Tom's. He twined their fingers together.

Tom made a low sound of anticipation, then moved upward to focus on the lines of Chakotay's tattoo. He began to trace the tribal marking with the very tip of his tongue.

When he reached the last curve, he let his lips trail down the side of Chakotay's face, kissing his way down cheek and jaw to fit his tongue into the tiny cleft in the strong chin. He continued his journey, this time moving up the jawline to one ear. Tom followed the whorls and hollows with lips and tongue, then took the lobe into his mouth to bite, then soothe. He sampled the sweet bit of skin behind, and moved down Chakotay’s throat, leaving a faint trail as he sucked on each morsel of flesh.

Chakotay moaned and lifted his chin again, this time to make it easier for that wonderful mouth to reach his skin. He felt an odd sensation as Tom reclaimed one hand to lift the crystal necklace and lap up the water gathered in the hollow at the base of his throat. He shuddered and felt his nipples tighten in reaction.

Tom was immediately drawn to the dusky nubs, kissing his way over Chakotay’s chest. When he reached the left peak, he licked a slow circle around it, then blew, watching the skin pebble even more. He then began to draw on the small bit of flesh, nipping it as his lover moaned. Tom released his prize and ran his tongue in the valley formed by the muscles on the journey to the right nipple. Once there he began to lave and suck, riding the wave of Chakotay's undulation as he lifted both their bodies as he arched in response.

Chakotay groaned as Tom's ministrations edged from causing pleasure to pain. He was relieved when that maddening mouth moved downward to trace over his ribs and trembling stomach. He could feel soft lips making their way down his body, pausing again to sip the pooled water from his navel. Chakotay had gripped the mattress tightly with his free hand, not wanting to crush the long fingers still clasped in his.

He shook himself out of his sensual haze to watch as Tom moved to lick the crease at the top of each thigh. The pink lips opened to bare sharp white teeth that nipped down the insides of his legs to his knees. He let his thighs part even more, anticipating that talented mouth on his aching, aroused cock. "Please Tom," he breathed.

/Who would have guessed Chakotay could be such a wanton./ Tom paused a moment to look at the sensual creature writhing beneath him. He was almost painfully aroused himself just from listening to Chakotay and tasting his silken skin. He drooled at the sight of a weeping dark cock waiting for him. He sampled the balls first, fitting first one into his mouth, then the other. His nose was tickled by soft strands as he nuzzled his way over Chakotay's groin, the aroma of musk added to Chakotay's usual heady scent.

He lapped the precum that had dripped down the straining shaft, surprised at the salty-sweet taste. /Probably because he's a vegetarian. But damn, that's good stuff./ He licked his way up to the slit to gather more of the flavorful fluid. He also moved his free arm to press against Chakotay's hips, keeping him still for Tom's enjoyment. 

Tom opened his lips and took in the head, lightly gripping with his teeth for a moment before  
taking more of the silk-steel length. He began bobbing up and down, slowly, coating Chakotay's manhood with his saliva, sucking his tasty treat.

Chakotay was balanced between heaven and hell. It was the sweetest of pleasures to be encased in that warm, wet mouth, watching his cock slip further and further between Tom's lips. But he was also in an agony of restraint, wanting to rip himself free from Tom's grip on his hand and hips so he could thrust deep into that long throat. Instead, Chakotay expressed his tension in small movements from side to side. He groaned and moved his hand from the mattress to Tom's hair, not to yank or grab, just wanting to touch the wet curls. He flung his head back with a groan that was more a growl, "I'm going to come, Tom."

/Yeah, do it, come for me./ Tom was glad he couldn't vocalize his thoughts as he sucked harder at the throbbing shaft. He felt the hand meshed with his own and the one in his hair tighten slightly in warning, then a rush of fluid filled his mouth as Chakotay gave another long growl. He kept drawing until he felt Chakotay’s cock begin to soften. He let it go and freed his hand, pushing himself up to grin at his lover's satiated expression.

Chakotay felt boneless. The suction and heat of Tom's mouth had brought him to the pinnacle of pleasure. As he floated back down to reality he wanted to forget about dinner or anything else and just stay in the haze of afterglow. But he knew that Tom was waiting. He felt blue eyes caressing his skin, and opened his own to meet them. "Can I have a moment to review my notes before the quiz, Professor?" he asked with a lazy grin.

Tom wrinkled his nose at the name, and pushed himself away from the muscled body. "I'm not done with my oral explorations. Turn over." He gave a reassuring smile at Chakotay's suddenly wary expression, and was pleased when Chakotay moved to his stomach and spread his legs without protest. He drank in the sight before him as he had the computer move the bottle of shower gel to the mattress.

Chakotay forced himself to lie quietly. /You enjoyed taking Tom's cock yesterday. There's nothing to worry about. Even if it begins as awkwardly as before, you liked the ending./ He almost groaned at his own unintentional pun, then groaned in appreciation as he felt Tom's touch on his skin. A hand moved the back of the necklace so teeth could explore the point where his neck flowed into his shoulders.

Tom began working his way down the length of Chakotay's spine, kissing, licking, nibbling. His hands reacquainted themselves with the satiny expanses they'd explored yesterday. He slowly approached that exquisite ass, hearing his lover's sounds of approval with relief. Tom was determined to make up for his inattentiveness of yesterday. /You're definitely going to be ready this time, my Titan. You'll be practically begging me to fuck you./ He moaned himself in anticipation.

Chakotay felt a playful tongue dipping into the tiny hollows at the bottom of his back, then swirling across one buttock and the other. He moved a little restlessly, unused to the sensation. Then he sensed Tom's hands parting his cheeks, and a light pressure lower, behind his balls. When the wet warmth continued trailing up his cleft he nearly jerked out of Tom's grip in surprise. "What are you doing?" he asked, trying to see over his shoulder.

Tom lifted his head, forehead creased. "Don't you trust me?"

"Of course,” Chakotay replied, “but what are you *doing*?"

Tom grinned and blew a breath along the exposed skin. He tightened his hold as Chakotay yelped and thrust his hips. "I told you. Oral explorations. Now hold still and let me work." Tom licked along the perineum up to the puckered orifice. He moved down again and traveled the same distance with his lips and teeth as his lover groaned and quivered beneath him.

Tom's tongue swirled around Chakotay's anus, then delicately breached the opening. Once in he started tongue-fucking the tight passage in time with Chakotay's moans. He shifted his arms so he could hold down Chakotay’s hips and thighs.

Chakotay's senses were on overdrive as he moved mindlessly, one moment trying to escape the strange sensations and the next trying to increase them. He was on edge, desperate to either fall over or be left alone. "Please, Tom," he asked, though he didn't know whether he wanted his skilled torturer to stop or continue.

Tom sent silent thanks that he had received his sign before his cock erupted onto the mattress. He straightened, turning to slather his fingers, then cock, with the gel. He moved his hand to the already wet and partially loosened passage. Both men groaned as he started sliding in and out, preparing Chakotay's body.

Chakotay almost sighed in relief as he felt the fingers leave and Tom's cock ease its way into him. He relaxed into the slow strokes, bending one leg to get a little purchase to lift into Tom's thrusts. Mostly he just absorbed the still unfamiliar feeling of fullness, and the advance and retreat of his partner's flesh into and against his own.

Tom raised himself higher on his knees, sending his cock deeper into the velvet warmth. He could *feel* the rumbling of the deep-chested sounds coming from Chakotay as his prostate was hit. Tom simply enjoyed the connection for long minutes, feeling the build of orgasm. He barely remembered to slip a hand around one sleek side to find Chakotay's renewed erection. His hand stroked in time with his hips, faster and faster, until his groan drowned out Chakotay’s gasp of release.

Cum flowed into and out of Chakotay as he finally fell off the precipice, the burn of satisfaction racing along his nerves. As the fire cooled to embers, he rested against the holographic mattress, content to wait for Tom to move out of and off him.

Every cell in Tom's body hummed with a sense of fulfillment. Chakotay's unexpected abandon in lovemaking was contagious---he had never felt so sensual and alive as he did when buried in the beautiful body, or even just lying against Chakotay’s skin. He regretfully slid his spent sex from its niche and rolled off to lay on his back on the mattress. 

His eyebrows rose when Chakotay started chuckling. "What's so funny?"

Chakotay looked over at Tom. "We're not going to start this all over again with another shared bath, are we?" He pushed himself onto his side. "I could see us never getting dressed again."

"Tempting as that sounds," /and damn, that does sound tempting/ "I think we'd better clean up *separately* and get some dinner. I've worked up quite an appetite." Tom grinned. "I'll even postpone your test for later."

"Gee, thanks Professor." Chakotay drawled as he levered himself up and extended a hand. "And all I have to do for a reprieve is feed you."

"Watch the attitude Cadet, or I might just have to keep you after class." Tom grabbed the gel and eyed the sleek form as Chakotay passed him to descend once more into the water. "For some *very* special study sessions."


	7. Chapter 7

/He's hopeless. Absolutely hopeless./ Chakotay couldn't take anymore. He walked around the counter to stand behind the would-be chef, putting his hand over Tom’s clumsy, knife-wielding hands. The fingers beneath his stilled, ending their senseless mangling of an innocent yellow squash. "You really are clueless in the kitchen, aren't you?"

Tom's T-shirt covered spine stiffened in resentment as he shoved the knife to the edge of the cutting board. "I *told* you, Chak, so it's your own fault for not believing me." He started to push away, but found himself blocked by the solid caftan-garbed body at his back.

"Relax, I wasn't criticizing you. You just need a little adjustment to your technique." Chakotay moved Tom's hand to the knife, and they both picked it up, Chakotay’s fingers encircling Tom’s. Chakotay rested his chin on Tom's shoulder and guided their left hands to the vegetable. "Open up your arms, crook them at the elbow a little more. We're making a right angle where the blade crosses the squash."

He curled Tom's fingers under and arranged them along the bright golden peel. "Keep your fingertips away from the knife, there's less chance of injury that way." Then he shifted the knife hand. "You want a straight line from elbow to wrist to knuckles---that way you won't feel tired even if you have to do a lot of chopping. You also want to roll down the middle and back of this blade, that's where all the power is." He lined the vegetable under the gleaming edge and exerted a light pressure.

Tom relaxed into the warmth of Chakotay's unintentional embrace, letting Chakotay guide his arms and hands. He was surprised when the knife began cleanly slicing the squash into coins, one precise cut after another. "Huh, that actually works."

"Yep, so how about you finish those while I put the kettle on, so to speak." Chakotay briskly pulled out a medium-sized pot and partially filled it with vegetable broth from a carafe he'd set on the counter earlier. After he checked the level, Chakotay carried it over to the table and set it on a hotplate built into the wooden surface. 

He adjusted the temperature controls, then moved to the stasis unit to pull out two salads and a tall glass bottle of dressing. He set the salads on the table near the bread basket and water glasses, then began vigorously shaking the container, keeping his thumb on the stopper.

"Hey, what kind of operation is this? First you put me to work and now I don't even get a choice of dressings," Tom teased as he picked up another squash.

"I'm not listening to it. I slaved over a room-temperature counter making sauces before starting work this morning." Chakotay set the bottle down. "This happens to be a balsamic vinaigrette that was designed to go with the salad."

"What other stuff did you make?" Tom was genuinely interested now.

"Well, this is kind of a bistro meal. Once the broth is hot I'll add some more herbs to it, then we just throw vegetables in, cook them for a few minutes and pull them out for dipping. I made ravioli as well, the dressing, and five sauces: curry, red wine and herbs, creamy horseradish, honey-dijon mustard, and a sweet scallion-and-chive mix. Plus a five-grain bread. Oh, and dessert."

"And the salads." Tom reminded, accentuating his statement with the knife.

Chakotay moved over to the opposite side of the counter and began adding the pieces of squash to the plate of mushrooms, tiny potatoes, broccoli, cauliflower, carrots, and ravioli. "Yes, but that was mainly just shredding and chopping."

Tom looked at the artful arrangement and shook his head. "So you're a chef, a masseur, a dancer, and, oh by the way, a Starfleet officer. Why the hell aren't you married?"

Chakotay paused in the midst of a turn toward the table, plate in hand. His expression turned wistful. "I was, almost." He lifted a shoulder. "She died. Wolf 359."

"Oh, shit, Chak, I'm sorry." Tom hurried around the corner to lay a hand on a strong wrist.

The dark eyes returned from their journey to the past as Chakotay offered a small smile. "No need to be. It was a long time ago." He started toward the table, Tom following to slide into the booth and pick up his napkin.

Chakotay set down the plate, dumped a small container of freshly chopped herbs into the pot, and handed over the bottle ofdressing. He arranged his own napkin and took back the bottle when Tom was finished. "It was a real turning point for me. I couldn't bear to be among the stars without her. So I decided to resign my commission and go home to Dorvan, try to make a life planetside."

He finished pouring, set the bottle down and picked up his utensils. "Then I was offered the post at the Academy. I sometimes wonder if things would have been different if I had followed my original plan." He looked down a moment, "Maybe I could have done something if I'd been there when the Cardassians attacked."

"No, you'd only have gotten yourself killed as well. Trust me, Chak. 'What ifs' never do any good." Tom fiddled with his fork a moment. "I should know."

Chakotay caught the somber blue gaze. "I'm sure things worked out for the best. But it's sometimes hard to resist taking a stroll down the road not taken. Just think..." Chakotay dropped his voice and leaned in, "you could have saved Chell's life on Ocampa."

Tom rolled his eyes and laughed, letting the mood lift. "Yeah right. He'd have *never* gotten me to fly for him in the Maquis, no matter how drunk I was at the time I agreed."

Chakotay snorted. "As I recall, you weren't all that drunk. Either that or you're a better negotiator sloshed than sober."

Tom began to eat, letting the sweet-tart zing of the vinaigrette settle on his tongue. "Mmmm...I withdraw all complaints about the salad. Can we use this dressing for the other stuff, too?"

"Sure. I like to do that myself." Chakotay shrugged. "I can't stand curry powder."

"But you made a sauce anyway? Thanks," Tom said, then covered his sudden warm and fuzzy feelings by opening the cloth covering the basket of bread. "So what do you use instead of butter?" he asked, pulling out a crusty slice.

"Usually olive oil," he pointed out the small carafe, "or a chutney or some kind of spread. My mother used leftover soup. She'd boil out most of the liquid then mill it for a few minutes. Of course, it wasn't often there was anything left in the pot by the time all the kids got done eating."

Chakotay watched Tom carefully drizzle the golden liquid over his slice. "Would you do mine as well?" he asked, choosing one and holding it out.

Tom's eyes followed the fluid as it dripped from the squat narrow-necked bottle onto the bread held in Chakotay's strong hand. He swallowed and hastily set the oil down. "That looks like enough."

"Perfect. Thanks."Chakotay dug into his salad, then looked at Tom. "So what about you? I'm surprised someone didn't snap up Starfleet's golden boy as soon as you were legal."

It was Tom’s turn to shrug. "I was engaged a year after I graduated, but the situation wasn't the same." His mouth twisted. "It was practically an arranged marriage. I was introduced to 'a daughter of one of the finest families'. Dear old Dad had never shown an interest in my love life before, so the message was pretty clear that this was the mother of the next Paris heir."

He nodded at the sympathy in Chakotay's gaze. "She broke it off after Caldik Prime. The only bright spot to the whole experience."

"I'm sorry," Chakotay said, wondering how any parent could be so cold-blooded about marriage, especially their children's. 

"No problem. As you said, it was a long time ago." Tom used his bread to sop the last bit of dressing on his empty salad dish, and eagerly peered into the pot. "So can we get started?"

Chakotay chuckled and grabbed both licked-clean plates, dropping them on the counter on the way to the stasis unit. "Sure, let me just grab the toppings and dishes."

Tom looked at the colorful tray of sauces complete with tiny serving spoons Chakotay soon set on the table. He also examined the odd pewter plate set in front of him. It was a hemisphere that looked like a rising sun, half a circle surrounded by small wells radiating outward to the edge. "So the sauces go in the spokes, and the food in the center?"

"You got it. So, what would you like to start with?" Chakotay returned to his seat and indicated the dish of vegetables with a flourish worthy of a fine-arts dealer.

"Definitely the ravioli. Wait a minute---" his eyes narrowed "what's in them if you don't eat cheese?"

"Tofu mixed with herbs and a substance called nutritional yeast. Most people can't tell it apart from gorgonzola." He dropped the circular pockets of dough in, then gently stirred with a slotted pewter spoon.

Tom watched the ravioli swirling. He started to salivate at the enticing scent, then looked up at his companion. "You're lucky you grabbed that spoon first."

Chakotay’s brows drew together. "Why?"

"I bet those taste as good as they smell." Tom grinned wolfishly. "I get a hold of that spoon and you're going to be on bread and water the rest of the night." He eyed the basket and reconsidered. "Maybe just water."

The two men shared a laugh and settled in for an evening of cooking and conversation.

************************************************************

"I can't say I'll give up cheeseburgers, Chakotay, but you have convinced me that people can live quite happily without them," Tom said, dabbing his lips with his napkin and giving a satisfied sigh.

"I'm glad to hear it. I wasn't originally planning on a vegan meal. I'm usually more considerate of the person I'm cooking for. I had thought about making a pizza or lasagna or something, but then I found myself with a bowl of tofu in hand." Chakotay grinned. "It was probably my passive-aggressive attempt at revenge for being at the beck and call of a junior officer."

"And your cunning plan to punish me was foiled by your own culinary skill. Very poetic." Tom's eyes drifted around the counter area, searching. "You did say something about dessert?" he asked, turning gleaming puppy-dog eyes on his host.

Chakotay laughed. "I bet you *always* got served first as a kid, with a look like that." He slid out of his seat, taking the pot with him. "Why don't you clear off the table and I'll get it set up."

"What is it? Will it take long?" Tom was hastily stacking plates. He figured if dinner had been that delicious, dessert would be spectacular.

"I should make you wait, but---" he filled a smaller pot with water and opened the stasis unit to pull out a steel bowl and carry it to the table, "we're having chocolate fondue." 

"Fondue? I haven't had that in *years*." Tom deposited the near-empty tray of sauces on the counter and peered into the stasis unit. "What are we using for dipping?"

Chakotay turned from where he had set the pot to simmering so the chocolate would melt. He sauntered silently over to Tom and couldn't resist. He swatted the pert denim-clad ass.

"Hey!" Tom yelled, more surprised than anything else. He turned to see Chakotay standing with arms folded, a stern look on his face.

"Didn't your mother ever tell you it's rude to go poking through other people's cabinets?" Chakotay said, doing a fair imitation of aggrieved outrage.

"What are you afraid of, Chak? I'll discover your secret stash of beef jerky?" Tom slinked over to stand in front of Chakotay and got a nose wrinkle in response.

"Beef jerky? Just by the sound of it I'd rather gnaw on a Starfleet ration pack any day." Chakotay slipped around Tom and opened the stasis unit, pulling a covered dish from the bottom shelf. He was careful to keep his own posterior out of range. "Would you like some coffee to go with your chocolate?" 

"Nah, I'll just refill the water glasses." Tom quickly did so, keeping his eye on the plate as Chakotay added dessert dishes and two-tined forks with extra-long handles to the table. His mouth started to water as the dark chocolate melted into a tempting pool, liquid and glistening like a certain sexpot's eyes.

Both men sat. Chakotay gripped the cover and lifted it, revealing another appetizing array, this time of fruits, marshmallows, and what looked to be tiny squares of various cakes.

"Oh yeah," Tom said appreciatively and speared a bite-sized brownie. "Now?"

"Yes, now." Chakotay chuckled and chose a marshmallow. The two men swirled their selections in the chocolate, lifting their plates to catch the drippings as they pulled their prizes from the clinging confection.

Tom waited a moment, then lifted the morsel to his lips. The intense taste melted onto his tongue, liquid dark chocolate yielding to solid. He moaned at the rich, complex flavor.

Chakotay nearly choked on his half-swallowed marshmallow at the sound. /If that wasn't a siren song I don't know what is./ He found himself wanting to hand feed a sweet between those pink lips and watch them open again in another long low sound of bliss. Instead, he speared a strawberry for himself and saw Tom choose a slice of banana.

Tom savored the coated fruit, then said, "You can thank me anytime for anything, Chak. The Rutali aren't the only ones with style."

Chakotay looked at the man across from him, the light from lamps and torches flickering against the pale skin, making it glow golden in the night. He smiled. "You're welcome." The two continued to dip the treats, both silenced by their enjoyment of the dessert and heightened awareness of each other.

Tom watched Chakotay's tongue clear a smear of chocolate from full lips and nearly groaned again, this time with renewed desire. /He's the most sensual eater I've ever seen, and he's not even trying. I am never going to be able to sit across from him in the Mess Hall again./

Two forks stabbed at the last brownie, the last anything, on the plate. Chakotay came up the victor. He slowly twirled and waved the bite of cake before Tom's eyes. "Would you like some more?" he tempted.

Tom knew his eyes had to be as big as their dessert plates as they hypnotically followed the dancing fork. "Yes," he breathed, wondering just what he was agreeing to.

Chakotay dipped the fork into the chocolate and let it go. He slowly stood and moved around the table, pushing it back so he had room to kneel in front of Tom. "I think it's time for my quiz, Professor." He slowly eased Tom down until Tom was lying lengthwise on the bench. "Computer, remove holographic garments and the back to this seat."

Tom felt the cushions against his naked spine as he sprawled. He felt less trapped now that the backrest was gone. His gaze traced Chakotay's torchlit skin as Chakotay swung back to retrieve the pot of chocolate. /You are, my Titan, fire made flesh./ Then Chakotay turned and Tom was scorched by that burning dark gaze, feeling it slowly glide along his body. He could barely breathe, so intense was his anticipation.

Chakotay tested the temperature of the remaining chocolate with a finger, which he slowly licked clean as he watched Tom's pupils dilate even more. Then carefully lifting the brownie-topped fork, he swung the dripping morsel toward his partner's open lips. He let the chocolate dribble away from the brownie, drawing a random dark pattern on Tom’s lips and the creamy skin of Tom's chin and neck.

Tom moaned as the warm liquid coated him. Then he saw the fork descend into the pot again and emerge once more. He opened his lips as the cake approached, his tongue yearning toward the treat. He felt the texture, sliding and firm against his tongue before the flavor burst into his mouth. He savored, chewing slowly, then swallowed and opened his eyes.

Chakotay watched Tom's enjoyment through slitted eyes, waiting. When Tom’s eyes were visible once more, he moved very slowly to Tom's neck and began licking off the chocolate with long, slow strokes of his tongue. He sucked a mouthful of skin here and there, leaving the white flesh gleaming. He tipped up his lover's chin, nibbling along the underside of his jaw, then moved to kiss and clean the line of bone. 

Then Chakotay shifted, delicately flicking his tongue over Tom's chin. Then he raised himself up and considered Tom's chocolate-smeared mouth.

Tom opened up, desperate for the overwhelming flood of sensation that was Chakotay's kiss. He gasped in surprise when those rosy lips *didn't* press against his own. Instead, that evasive tongue darted out for a sample here, a brush there, always staying away from Tom's grasping mouth. If he tried a more aggressive move, lifting his head or doing his own foraging, Chakotay drew out of range completely. It was maddening, but it was also spiking Tom's awareness of each contact with moist heat of Chakotay's mouth. He sank back onto the cushions, opened his mouth again and closed his eyes, conceding.

Satisfied that he had control for the moment, Chakotay set the pot aside and returned to his cat-like cleaning of Tom's face. He took long wet licks across the length of the pink lips, dipping occasionally to brush against the inner walls. The he moved up, earning a startled glance as he lightly grasped Tom's nose between his teeth and very gently worked up its pert length. He kissed the patch of pale skin between the winged blond brows, then traced each one with his closed lips. He then kissed his way across the wide forehead and down one cheek to reach Tom's left ear.

Tom moaned as a hot breath curled around the delicate tissues. He shuddered as Chakotay did his own tongue-fucking, darting into Tom's ear and withdrawing in a familiar rhythm. Then teeth scraped along the outer edge, following the curve down to the lobe, which was sucked in time to the same heady beat. Tom gasped at a bite to the flesh just below his ear, and felt a warm palm cupping the other side of his face.

Tom's tingling nerves noted Chakotay's leisurely oral trek down his throat once more to graze along his collarbone. He was surprised at the detour to his shoulder and down his arm. Sucking at the crook of his elbow caused a zing of awareness along the entire limb. Then that wicked mouth worked its way down to his wrist and hand.

Chakotay delivered light bites along the back and knuckles of Tom’s hand, then followed the outer edge to the tip of Tom's pinky. He moved the digit into his mouth for a thorough laving. He slowly glided off, only to separate it from its mates so he could suck at the delicate skin in the valley in between. He continued his treatment to each slender finger in turn.

Tom was writhing now, his cock throbbing with need. The only part of his body that was still was his left hand, cradled in the grip of two darker counterparts. He could feel sensations building and building as the focus moved from one finger to another. Tom almost screamed when the sensitive skin spanning from index finger to thumb was nibbled like a slice of melon. Then his thumb was captured, teeth holding the base while the pad was tongued and the knuckle rubbed against the ridges of Chakotay's palate. The air was cool against his wet fingers as Chakotay moved to Tom's palm, tracing the lines with his tongue and nipping his Venus mount. Then his wrist was lapped, tonguetip pressing against his throbbing veins, and the mouth left him.

Chakotay turned his head and rubbed his cheek along the soft skin on the inside of Tom's arm. He followed the limb back up to the shoulder, then descended into the field of golden chest hair. He let the very edges of his chin and lips brush the light-colored filaments, blowing against the skin underneath as he moved. He reached a dark pink nipple and nuzzled against it, then closed his mouth around the pebbled flesh.

Tom whimpered and thrust up as Chakotay’s teeth gripped the tiny nub, tongue swiping and stabbing against it in turn. Tom tried to twist his fingers into the bench's padding, but couldn't get a hold of the slippery cloth. He finally grabbed the edges of the cushion in a death grip. He felt Chakotay kissing his chest as he made his way over to the other nipple to offer it some attention.

Chakotay eventually released his new toy and moved downward, swiping his tongue onto Tom's stomach and blowing, watching the hairs stand up as Tom shivered. He sucked large mouthfuls of pale skin as he made his way along Tom's torso.

Tom nearly bucked off the bench when a tongue stabbed into his bellybutton. His cock was hard and leaking, and he was trembling with the need for release. He looked down in shock and disbelief as he felt Chakotay's mouth detouring down one thigh in a leisurely exploration. His kneecap was suckled, then lips skipped down his shin. A quick, shocking bite to his instep made his hips thrust in instinctive reaction. "Please Chak," he groaned.

Chakotay shifted to the other leg, licking around the ankle and then sucking a chain of faint marks along the pale limb on his return trip to Tom's cock. He was enticed by the gleaming length, the scent of it teasing his nostrils. He dipped his head a little and probed behind the Tom's balls with his tongue, garnering another needy groan and thrust. He ran his mouth along the crepe-like skin of the sac, then wrapped his lips around the base of Tom's straining shaft, sucking his way up one side and down the other. His lips and tongue tingled with the unfamiliar feeling of the satin-sheathed rod and salty taste of precum.

Tom knew his mouth was forming words, but he couldn't guess what language he was pleading in as he felt his cock finally encased. He knew he should be offering some guidance or advice, but all he could do was beg for more as Chakotay worked his lips and tongue around his pulsing cock. He felt teeth graze the underside of the crown and surged forward, his hips lifting uncontrollably. He was surprised to find the way clear, Chakotay's jaw and throat opening to let him glide further in. 

Then he felt hands on his hips, returning them to the bench as Chakotay backed off Tom's cock. He blew a cool stream against the wet skin, making Tom moan again. The heat of his lover's mouth was even more shocking when Chakotay’s head bent to take him in once more. Soon Chakotay had one dusky hand alternating between squeezing the base of Tom's erection and fondling his balls, while that mouth kept moving on him, drawing him closer and closer to the edge.

Chakotay used his tongue to press the head of Tom's cock against his palate, running it over the ridges there and listening to throaty sounds of approval. He sank down a little more, keeping one hand around the base of the shaft so the engorged length was completely encased. Then his mouth was full of salty, musky fluid as Tom started moaning. 

Chakotay swallowed, backed off a little and let Tom pump his release into Chakotay's mouth. When Tom sank back with an exhausted sigh, Chakotay lapped up the semen that had spilled, licked his lips and raised himself to lean over Tom’s body.

Tom was still panting, feeling as weak as a kitten. He wished at that moment that he could do what Chakotay had earlier, turn over and offer himself completely to his lover. But he couldn't. Or more honestly, he chose not to. Tom avoided what he *knew* was a disappointed gaze until he felt a hand lifting his chin. He looked up into knowing, accepting eyes. 

Chakotay gave him a small shrug of understanding, then kissed him, deep and demanding. Tom’s lashes fluttered down as felt a hot, hard cock against his stomach for a handful of thrusts, then the Chakotay's groan of release whooshed down his own throat.

Chakotay slid off and sank back down on his heels, cum still dripping from his spent cock. In a strange way he was glad that Tom hadn't reciprocated, but rather held back the way he always seemed to. It was a sharp and necessary reminder to Chakotay that he and Tom weren't lovers. Not truly. /It's just as well. If I did succumb to the siren's call, I would lose my heart to someone who doesn't want it, or me, except as a few-days fuck buddy./ He nodded to himself, a little wistfully, then gathered up Tom’s limp form and stood.

Tom opened his eyes in surprise as Chakotay carried him back to the pool. "You're not going to throw me in freezing water, are you?" he asked, not entirely joking. /I'd certainly understand./

"Of course not. That would blow my grade, pardon the pun." Chakotay chuckled and descended the steps into the still warm liquid, propping Tom against the steps. "I'm going to brush my teeth and use the shower. When you're done here, just call up the bedroom. Everything through the archway will stay the same." He regarded a still dazed-looking Tom. "Are you going to be OK?"

"Yeah, when I finally remember my name." Tom lifted one hand and gave a thumbs-up. "A plus, Cadet. You definitely aced your oral exam."

"I had an excellent teacher. See you in fifteen." Chakotay disappeared through the archway.

Tom pushed himself off the steps and turned to float on his back for a few moments, recalling the day and wondering what might have been if he'd shown a little more courage, or trust. /Just forget about it, Tommyboy. You've gotten along just fine as an exclusive top for fourteen years. You certainly aren't going to break that rule now. Especially since the affair will be over before you know it./ Tom moved to the steps, called for supplies and a toothbrush and started cleaning up, satiated but disturbed, wanting to be done and under the covers before Chakotay returned.

************************************************************

Nedal flung himself from his chair with a roar. His disbelief had grown with each word of the report from Ruta. He could not believe that his people were *pleased* with the Larat. /Chakotay is no different than any other creature bound under the seal. He is still prey, despite his odd nature. He is nothing more than words. Pleasant sounding, but mere puffs of air./

But apparently the Rutali were simple-minded enough to be beguiled by them. The ebony-haired human had managed to spin a compelling tale, casting his failures in a more flattering, even heroic light.

The Regent paced his spacious office, trying to stave off another explosion of rage. This news, he knew, would be a relief to Milady and the High Consul. And, if he were more objective, he *should* feel the same. He'd ignored Sisryn's warnings as overexaggerations, but he had to admit there could be a political price to pay for bagging his elusive golden goband, Tom Paris.

The Rutali's teeth gritted as he recalled how the female, Janeway, had gotten Nedal off her ship and away from his sky-eyed target. The Regent had decided to end the roundtable discussion after he realized that Chakotay had blocked his subtle attempts to point out the Commander's weaknesses to the fair-haired Lieutenant. 

Nedal’s perfunctory but mandatory apology to Voyager's Captain was designed to segue into more intimate tête-à-têtes among the humans and Rutali---maybe even an impromptu cocktail hour. That would have given Nedal the opportunity to proposition the pilot, or if the human balked, to put into play less diplomatic arrangements.

Instead, he and his entourage had been culled like year-old goband calves, separated from the Federation ship's crew and hustled into the transporter for a hasty trip back to the flagship. /Tom Paris is probably again in the dark human's hands./ Nedal clenched his own, imagining them squeezing Chakotay's neck just above the seal of Larat. Either that or ripping the circlet from the annoyingly self-contained man and bestowing it upon his golden one. But that was a futile flight of fancy, impossible to implement.

/At least while Chakotay is still considered *intriguing* by the prides./ Nedal's eyes narrowed as he stroked the Regent's seal thoughtfully. /If the Larat is shown to be truly unworthy, then perhaps I could force Milady to withdraw her support from the Voyager Commander. Then my intended Chosen, Paris, would be the only acceptable substitute./

The golden gaze turned feral with glee. /I would not have to plot, or woo, or do anything at all to draw the golden one to my bed. And it would not be for a measly day or two's hasty enjoyment. Tom Paris would be the Larat, and delivered into my grasp in accord with the ancient agreement. That pale flesh could be mine for as long as an entire month./

He slowly walked to the desk. /Yes. It is not Tom Paris who must be made aware that the Larat is a fraud, but my own people./ Nedal licked his lips with an anticipatory growl and sat down once more, a new strategy beginning to unfold in his mind.


	8. Chapter 8

/This is hopeless. Absolutely hopeless./ Neelix felt like stamping his foot in a rare display of temper. The Talaxian was frustrated, and could sense the irritation tightening the muscles of his face. He paused a moment in his hunt for information.

A Voyager delegation had beamed aboard the Rutali flagship this time. The evening soirée was supposed to be less formal than yesterday's "information exchange". Also, hopefully, less tense, though Neelix had been as impressed as always with Commander Chakotay's serene wisdom and Captain Janeway's iron-fist-in-velvet-glove diplomacy. He wondered if the crew's speculations were accurate, that the Rutali Regent had deliberately set out to disparage the First Officer's character.

It didn't make sense. /After all, these people *did* choose the Commander to be their official liaison. And why did Nedal keep staring at Tom Paris, of all people? Very strange goings-on, indeed./

So Neelix had decided to use this casual congregation to get the lay of the land. He wanted to gauge Rutali opinion of his Starfleet colleagues, and if he were lucky, provide the Captain with an explanation for the alien leader's odd behavior. But his efforts thus far had been in vain.

All he'd heard were brief snatches of conversation, many to do with some kind of privileges, but no substantive clues to the state of Rutali-Voyager relations. Every time he approached a gossiping group, the participants abruptly stopped speaking, turned to greet him and engaged him immediately in conversation involving the blandest of topics. He found the assembled ministers and pride leaders pleasant enough, but their diversionary tactics maddening.

He leaned against a bulkhead, absently noting the opulence of his surroundings. The large Rutali reception room aboard this ship was much like the grand hall on the colony world where they'd first agreed to this journey. A lighted domed ceiling arched overhead. Everything was done in white and gold, and real flames flickered from torches set into slanted sheaths in the walls. The only bold color, outside their hosts' ornate garments, was the carmine-colored carpet beneath their feet. It almost exactly matched the shade of freshly spilled human blood.

/Perhaps I’m losing my touch./ Neelix had been having a similar lack of success finding out what was going on with the senior staff since they'd started the trip to Ruta. Harry had been hovering over Tom, while the Captain was keeping a careful eye on Chakotay. And rumor had it the pilot and First Officer were spending quite a bit of time together on the holodeck. Neelix wasn't so sure about that one. True, neither one had shown up for dinner yesterday, but today all the evidence suggested the two were avoiding each other. Tom had come in earlier than usual for his meals, while Chakotay had run late. But his subtle inquiries had not garnered him anything except shrugs and evasions from the bridge crew. He shook his head. /It's enough to make me doubt my own skills at scavenging./

Neelix suddenly sensed a sea change sweep over the room. Bodies tensed and turned toward the door, which had just opened to admit the Regent. The Rutali leader's night-black robes whispered into the hush that had fallen over the crowd.

***************

Nedal's eyes challenged each of his subjects in turn as he crossed the hall; they all fell before his threatening gaze. He coolly noted the aliens from Voyager scattered among his people as he crossed to a table with an elegant display of refreshments. He picked up a fluted glass and stood poised a moment, considering. As he strolled over to Captain Janeway---half a room away from the Larat and Tom Paris---conversations resumed and focus drifted elsewhere.

Kathryn drew herself up a little as the Regent approached. She mentally cursed the lack of uniforms at this gathering. Since Ken wasn't accompanying her she'd dressed for comfort in a slim-fitting gray pants suit, and had opted for flats instead of her usual heels. She was sorely missing the inches as she sketched a small bow, then tilted her head back to meet suspiciously pleased golden eyes. "Regent Nedal," she murmured.

"Captain Janeway," the royal purred, nodding graciously. "I'm so glad the disagreeable turn of yesterday's discussion did not keep you huddled aboard your gallant ship."

/Great. It's going to be another one of *those* conversations. No wonder I'm a dog person./ "Of course not, Sir. After four years in the Delta Quadrant, my crew is used to outsiders not being able to grasp the dynamics of Voyager's society on first acquaintance." She gave a smile that didn't reach her eyes. "I'm sure during your reign you've had to make your own share of awkward explanations."

"Yes, there have been some harsh demonstrations of Rutali reaction to alien interference. Of course, not many species are afforded the close contact with our people that comes with the offer of Larat." Nedal's answering smile was just as insincere but more edged. "I have every confidence that *you*, Captain, understand the sanctity of a culture's unique traditions. As well as our need to preserve them, despite the...opinions of outsiders."

"Of course." The hair on Kathryn's nape began prickling in reaction to this not-so-subtle threat. She'd bet a month's rations that one of her crew was about to run afoul of a sacred Rutali custom. "And I trust that your people will be quick to warn us when a transgression is imminent. After all, one cannot avoid pitfalls unless they're plainly marked." Her tone tightened. "Otherwise they're really just traps."

"Only for the unwary, Captain," Nedal replied, and departed. Kathryn took a large swallow of her drink to settle her stomach as she was swept into a debate involving six Rutali. She felt the need to run and protect someone, but wasn't sure who was in danger, Tom or Chakotay.

************************************************************

Tom hovered close to Harry, nervously smoothing his dark green tunic. He was dressed much less provocatively than the last time he'd attended a Rutali off-duty function. He was trying his best to hide in the background. He had carefully maneuvered his way around the room all evening. Especially since the Regent had arrived nearly an hour before. Tom was absolutely determined to avoid contact with Nedal---*and* Chakotay.

/Coward./ His lip curled as he considered his pathetic behavior since his temporary lover had carried him to the pool last night. Tom had managed to get ready for bed in record time, and was curled under the covers feigning sleep when he heard his roommate enter. Chakotay had taken the hint; he laid his head on the outer edge of his own pillow and promptly, silently, dozed off.

Tom was surprised to follow him into dreamland so quickly. He expected the chaotic whirl of his thoughts to plague him for hours. Instead he'd barely recognized the even breaths signaling Chakotay's slumber before his own body succumbed.

He woke before the alarm, again refreshed, and once more wrapped around his still unconscious lover. Their bodies were arranged as they'd lain most of their first night together, on their sides with Tom's limbs wound around Chakotay like a vine climbing a tree. 

This morning Chakotay's hands were curled into his chest; one of Tom's covered them. His legs had captured one of Chakotay’s, and his awakening manhood was brushing the sensitive skin of Chakotay's inner thighs.

Tom had fled, carefully easing his way back to his own side of the mattress. He'd risen, dressed and left a note about hitting the gym before sneaking out of the holodeck, carrying his boots. He lied. He'd really gone straight to the Mess Hall for an early breakfast and hid in the Airponics Bay until shift began.

Puzzled brown eyes had touched him occasionally on the bridge, but he'd managed to avoid even work-related conversation with the Commander. He really couldn't untangle the situation in his own mind, much less coherently explain it to someone else. His instincts---the same flight response that had ended every relationship he'd ever had---were now urging him to dissolve this bizarre agreement with Chakotay. /After all, my Titan would never understand that---/

"Kim to Paris; come in Paris." Harry waved his hand in front of his best friend's glazed eyes. He wasn't reassured when Tom started shaking his head like he was coming back from some long journey into his own thoughts. Harry's face creased in a concerned frown. "What's up with you, buddy? You've been walking around in a fog all day."

Tom snapped back to awareness, giving a typical devil-may-care grin. "Nothing, Har. Not a single little thing." He took a sip of his drink.

"Uh huh." Harry was unconvinced. His tone shifted to way-too-casual. "So you and the Commander still joined at the hip?"

Tom spat out the mouthful of liquid. "*What*?!"

"You and Chakotay. You've been practically living in each other's pockets the last few days, working on that secret project." Harry's expression turned speculative. "What did you think I meant?"

"Exactly what you said. The image took me by surprise, that's all." /Just because my version had our hips joined front to back with my cock plunged up to the hilt in that gorgeous ass doesn't *really* make one bit of difference./

Harry’s brows lifted. "So everything's going all right with the gift for the Regent?"

"Uh, it's fine. Coming along nicely." Tom could feel his cheeks heat at the unintentional double entendre. "I'm actually not supposed to talk about it."

"Hmph.” Harry’s eyes narrowed. “And you can't be having a work problem---it's clear sailing from here to Ruta. So...you must still be edgy about the Regent."

Tom took the out, which was at least partially true. "I guess. I mean, one minute he's having a normal conversation like any diplomat and the next he's lambasting Chakotay and eyeing me like I'm his next meal."

"Yeah, steak tartare,” Harr agreed. “But you've been keeping clear of him OK so far tonight."

Tom relaxed a little now that he'd successfully thrown Harry off the scent. Of course, the moment he had a little free space in his brain his thoughts jumped right back to Chakotay. Which automatically tightened him up again. It didn't help that Tom kept remembering gentle, powerful hands on his body, massaging away his tension. 

He sighed and set his drink down on one of the refreshment tables set along the wall. "Look Har, I think I've put in enough of an appearance. I'm going to head back to Voyager."

"Shouldn't you wait for the Commander?” Harry cast a glance around the room. “I mean, aren't you going to be spending another late night with him?"

Tom shrugged. "I guess. That's why I want to leave now, so I can get in some 'me time' first."

"That makes sense." Harry leaned in and lowered his voice, "Do you want some company?"

"Nah, I'll be OK." Tom confirmed that the Regent was deep in conversation with some fellow Rutali, while Chakotay---crystal seal sparkling against loose-fitting midnight blue---was speaking to Sisryn. "The coast looks clear. I'll see you tomorrow, Harry." Tom edged around the room and slipped out.

Harry watched the door slide shut behind his friend, then switched his focus back to the crowd to check the location of the Regent. His eyes widened as he saw the intimidating black-robed figure surreptitiously opening a panel---apparently a hidden door---and making a hasty exit. Probably to waylay Tom.

Harry immediately turned back toward the more conventional egress, intent on providing back-up for his friend. /And from that avid expression on the Regent's face, Tom's going to need it./ His spin was abruptly stopped by another, slighter body. He grabbed Milady's elbows just in time to stop her from falling. "I'm so terribly sorry," he said, setting the older Rutali on her feet.

"Not a problem, my dear Mr. Kim. I'm used to being blown away by the enthusiasm of the young." One slim arm had claimed Harry's, holding him in place with surprising strength. "Where were you about to fly off to?" she purred.

"Um, I was just trying to catch up to Tom---Lieutenant Paris." Harry subtly tried to pull away. The woman wouldn't budge.

"Oh, I'm sure your pilot can successfully navigate his way back to the departure chamber, and *we* haven't really had a chance yet to chat," Milady said. She raised her brows. "Unless there was something urgent...?" Her golden eyes seemed to be taunting him.

/Yeah. I'm afraid your more than slightly scary leader is about to devour my friend like a six-foot hors d'oeuvre./ Of course, saying *that* was a recipe for an intership incident. Harry's shoulders slumped. He knew he was trapped. "No, ma'am, nothing I can't follow up with him later." /I hope./

***************

Chakotay dropped his hand from its absentminded stroking of the seal of Larat, and deliberately turned his back on Tom, the Regent, and the rest of the room. He tried to focus on Sisryn's words, stifling a sigh. He was having another one of those days.

He had been awakened this morning by another unfamiliar sensation. This time it was Tom's cock nestling between his own legs. He had held still and continued his even breaths as he sensed his companion cautiously drawing away. Obviously hoping not to wake his bed partner.

He'd kept up the charade as he heard Tom fumble into his uniform and depart. When the holodeck door closed, Chakotay had sat up himself, leaning against the headboard to try to solve the mystery of Tom's odd behavior.

There was definitely a pattern, and this morning merely continued the back-and-forth, hot-and-cold pendulum swing that Chakotay was becoming used to from his guide along these hitherto untread paths of pleasure. His brows drew together as he tried to figure out the reason for this latest withdrawal. He decided to approach the question logically.

Embarrassment was unlikely. It wasn't really Tom's fault his body moved around in sleep; everybody's did. And he might be ending up on Chakotay's side of the bed because the environment was just a little too cool for his more slender form. It made sense then that he would snuggle up to Chakotay for warmth.

So, moving further back in memory, Chakotay considered the events of last evening. He was briefly distracted by a surge of desire at the sheer carnality of some of the memories, but swiftly regained control of himself. Tom had certainly been enthusiastic about teaching his pupil the intricacies of male-male oral sex. And dinner had been a relaxed, pleasant meal of shared confidences between friends.

Therefore something occurred in the last part of the night to set Tom off. Chakotay mentally reviewed his own "oral exam," as his irrepressible Professor called it. Tom had seemed to enjoy the experience (his A-plus grade notwithstanding), so Chakotay didn't think that was at issue. No...it was what happened afterward. He sighed as his thoughts turned to the moment he'd been avoiding throughout his internal checklist.

Chakotay hadn't expected anything in particular from his sated lover when he'd leaned over Tom, his own arousal aching and full. But the tightness of Tom’s expression and the screwed-shut blue eyes told a different story, one of self-recrimination and evasion. Chakotay had mentally shaken his head at the error in Tom's viewpoint. So he'd tried to wordlessly convey his acceptance of the status quo, then found his release in an intense kiss and the friction of moving against the sweat-slick skin beneath him. But Tom apparently saw that lack of...equal activities as a shortcoming, causing him to avoid his partner for some time afterward.

The simple fact was that Tom didn't want to be taken. He seemed to tense up every time the action moved anywhere near his own ass. Chakotay understood that, and had accepted it. Honestly, he really didn't have a choice in the matter. Tom was doing him a favor by helping him prepare for his duties as the Larat, so the blond got to call the shots. And it wasn't as though Chakotay was likely to need experience as a top. So now all he had to do was think of a way to reassure Tom that he wasn't going to be pressured into anything he wasn't willing and eager to participate in. 

Chakotay had no clue, though, on how to communicate that fact without tripping Tom's hair-trigger self-defense mechanisms. He sighed and took a moment to set all questions of duty aside and consider his real feelings on the matter. 

Yes, on a well-hidden level he *was* disappointed. Tom was his first homosexual lover and he would have liked to have had a partner who was interested in exploring *all* of the possibilities their encounters created. But Tom Paris was the only man he was attracted to, and Tom clearly didn't want to---what was it?---catch as well as pitch. So, end of story.

He wasn't even going to ask for the reasons behind Tom's reluctance, partly because the answer could all too easily be that Tom simply wasn't interested that way in *him*. Chakotay would take what he could get and count himself lucky for the chance to spend this time with the intriguing blond. It's not as though he'd ever get another opportunity.

/Besides, it helps to remind me that Tom isn't in this for the long haul./ Chakotay definitely needed to stay focused on the reality of the situation. Because he very much enjoyed touching, and even talking with, Tom. 

The two of them had clicked on a level they'd never achieved in their previous four years on Voyager. And some long-forgotten part of Chakotay's soul was giving a satisfied sigh at the intimacy. Far too much time had passed since he'd had someone special in his life.

Surprisingly, gender wasn't even an issue. He hadn't felt any awkwardness that his current lover was a man. /But it's just too easy to be drawn into the siren's spell. I have to remember that a week from now Tom *won't* be sharing my bed. Nedal will. And whatever I have with Tom will be nothing more than a pleasant memory./ On that depressing note, Chakotay had risen and gotten ready for his day.

His thoughts, and gaze, had wandered to the pilot once or twice during shift as Chakotay wrestled with the question of how to subtly convey that all was well. He'd been disheartened to see Tom deliberately avoid him. Chakotay didn't feel he had a right to push things, so he'd tried to give Tom some space.

Including now, at the Rutali reception. Chakotay kept an eye on the Regent, making sure the royal wasn't hassling Tom, but otherwise the he stayed away. It hadn't been difficult, since the pride leaders had taken up much of his time rehashing yesterday's exchange between himself and Nedal.

Sisryn had rescued him from the latest group of groupies, pulling him away for a private chat. Although the request to speak about an urgent matter turned out to be a ruse, since they'd merely exchanged pleasantries after she'd maneuvered them to a quiet corner.

"Ah, I see the Regent has left. Probably to say farewell to Mr. Paris." Sisryn suddenly had the Larat's full attention as she commented on the view over his broad shoulder.

"Nedal is after Tom?" Chakotay asked in concern as he turned back to the hall, confirming the absence of his nighttime companion.

Sisryn shrugged. "Well, he exited the room just after your pilot. I suppose he's simply being a proper host and personally making sure a guest finds his way to the departure chamber."

/More likely his own bedchamber,/ Chakotay thought with a mental growl, but turned back to bow to Sisryn. "I'm sorry, but I should go. The Lieutenant and I have some unfinished business. I need to catch up with him before he gets back to Voyager."

"Of course." Sisryn pointed to a section of wall at the other end of the room. "If you open that panel, you'll find a passageway. It will take you more directly to your destination." She accepted Chakotay's hurried thanks with a nod and watched the Larat gracefully wend his way through the crowd.

She raised a hand, giving in to the instinct to call him back. But after a moment of internal debate she sighed and instead clasped the seal around her neck. A weight, and responsibility, she felt more heavily at that moment than in all her time as Chief Consul. She then straightened her shoulders and searched the hall, catching Milady's eye. She nodded, then moved to a group of Voyager personnel and Rutali to tap Captain Janeway's shoulder.

Kathryn turned and smiled a welcome to Sisryn. "Can I help you?"

"Captain Janeway, I hate to end a most pleasant evening, but I believe it is time for your crew to return to the comforts of your ship. I would be honored to escort your delegation to the departure chamber." She watched the woman silently signal her people, and noted that Milady accompanied the young Ops Officer as he filed out the door. She collected a few of the pride leaders with a gesture, then moved to the head of the crowd with Janeway and led the way down the corridor. Her orders from Nedal were now fulfilled, but she felt no sense of accomplishment, only foreboding.

***************

Tom cast a last glance back into the hallway as he entered the departure chamber, simply a small conference room set aside for people transporting to and from Voyager. Apparently it was very rude, in Rutali opinion, to disperse your molecules in front of your hosts.

Tom closed his eyes and leaned on the bulkhead beside the closed door a moment, sagging in his relief at escaping from the party unnoticed. He lifted an arm and was about to tap his comm badge when his wrist was grabbed. His startled gaze saw a matching Rutali hand, claws sheathed, pluck the small device from his chest.

"You won't be needing that just yet, golden one," Nedal purred, pleased to see shock in the blue eyes.

"Regent Nedal. How did you get in here?" Tom tried to relax against the wall, making his body reflect his casual tone of voice. His wrist was released as the royal flattened one palm beside Tom's head, and let his heavier form advance to within a few centimeters of Tom's. The other hand toyed with the comm badge, teasingly brushing a thumb against it.

Nedal smiled, but ignored the question. He moved his lips close to a shell-like human ear to whisper, "I've had black sheets put on the royal bed, my goband, so your pale skin and sunlit curls will gleam against it like a star set in the night sky."

/Shit. I am *never* leaving Voyager again. I should have taken Harry up on his roundabout offer of a bodyguard./ Tom considered his options. Nedal was so close Tom really didn't have the room to maneuver to get a knee up to a viable target. He also wasn't sure that, even with the wall to brace against, he'd be able to push that solid chest away.

Tom drawled, "That's flattering, honest, but I have another engagement." As he finished speaking he twisted his hips to force enough space to drop into a crouch, launching himself away from the muscular alien and toward the door.

Nedal grabbed a slender wrist and pulled, flinging the human so Tom landed on his back on the conference table, the human gasping as he tried to regain his breath. A quick move and both green-clad arms were pinned under a single Rutali hand. 

Fierce golden eyes blazed as the Regent pressed his body into his prey's. "I'm afraid your Commander will have to do without you for a while," he growled and bore down even more. "I will provide you with a place to sleep...eventually." His lips hovered over Tom's as Tom clamped his mouth tightly shut and tensed, vowing to fight this every step of the way.

Suddenly the pressure on his chest was gone as Nedal disappeared from view. Tom lifted his head and shoulders to see the Regent pressed against the wall this time, with Chakotay's forearm across his throat. "Regent Nedal," Chakotay said, his voice calm and pleasant, "one of my duties as the Larat is to act as an advisor." His whole aspect became menacing as he applied light pressure to the alien's windpipe. "So I am very strongly recommending *you leave my people alone*."

The door suddenly opened to admit the Captain and Sisryn, with Harry and Milady a step behind. All four froze at the tableau and tension-filled atmosphere.

As Tom hastily scrambled to his feet, Chakotay released the Rutali and stepped back. Tom straightened his tunic and picked up his comm badge from where Nedal had tossed it on the table.

The Regent shouldered Chakotay aside and stepped forward to address the newcomers, as well as the rest of the crowd outside in the hall. "You are all my witnesses. The Larat has challenged me, by blocking my intent to persuade the human Tom Paris to my bed. By Rutali law, I now have the grounds to question not only his right to interfere, but also his worthiness to wear the seal of Larat."

Captain Janeway stepped forward immediately. "My First Officer would not unnecessarily involve himself in the private matters of our crew." Her eyes narrowed. "If my pilot didn't consent---"

"The circumstances are irrelevant, Captain." Sisryn's voice was resigned but certain. "The affront to the Regent's authority is all. The Commander must now accept the challenge, or withdraw all claim to the title of Larat."

"And, of course, the honor and duty would be offered to another worthy candidate." Chakotay did not seem particularly surprised. "Of course I will accept the challenge. What form does it take?"

The Rutali were excitedly whispering among themselves. Nedal quelled the disturbance with a glare. "We will meet in two days' time in physical combat." He gave a very feline grin. "That should give you ample opportunity to reconsider the foolishness of fighting me."

"This is not a battle to the death," Milady spoke now, her tone communicating a warning to her leader, "unless of course Nedal is willing to wager *his* title and seal as well."

"Of course it is not a full blood rite. There will be no *permanent* damage." /That's what the rules say, anyway./ "Sisryn will contact you with all of the protocols," Nedal smoothly reassured as his eyes raked the humans. 

He then moved forward and lifted Tom Paris's hand, delivering a small nip. "I guess our time together will have to be postponed." 

Nedal released his golden one with an overly intimate smile. "For a little while, at least." He then turned and left the room by the concealed doorway.

/So *that's* how he did it./ Tom glared at Chakotay in the continued silence the royal left behind.

Chakotay felt blue eyes shooting angry flames in his direction, but ignored them. He looked to Sisryn, his gaze conveying his awareness of her part in this deliberate contretemps. "I trust you will inform us tomorrow of the arrangements?" At her nod, he bowed to the general company. "Then the Lieutenant and I will bid you all good night."

Kathryn's fierce expression stopped Tom the second his mouth opened to protest. Before she could voice *her* disagreement, Chakotay smoothly continued. "Of course, Captain, we will immediately file our reports." His eyes pointed out to her the eagerly listening aliens and crewmates craning their heads into the room. "But the debriefing would be better conducted in the morning."

The Captain flicked her eyes over their audience and conceded. "Very well, Commander. I look forward to some interesting reading...from both of you." 

Tom swallowed when he felt her steely gaze pass over him as she took a last look at the assembled crowd. She tapped her comm badge. "Janeway to Voyager. The Commander and Lieutenant Paris are ready to return."

The acknowledgement had barely sounded in the small space when the two men disappeared. Kathryn whirled and dragged Sisryn and Milady to one side. "Now explain to me just what the hell is going on," she growled.

***************

Chakotay stepped off the transporter platform and nodded to the Ensign at the board. He heard the angry stomp of his companion and turned. A single hand rose to halt the anticipated angry spout of words. "Not here, Lieutenant."

Tom stiffened. "Chakotay, you---"

"Mr. Paris." Chakotay met the anger with his own irritation. "Follow me, please. We need to file our reports." He turned and left the room.

Tom took a deep breath and counted to ten. Still simmering, he entered the corridor and sped after his CO. Who also happened to be the man he was fucking every night.

Chakotay was rather surprised that Tom managed to hold his temper until the privacy lock was engaged. He stood on the bare grid and watched Tom’s sharp, jerky movements as he paced.

"I can't *believe* you, Chakotay." Tom shot angry glances at the source of his ire. "Who asked you to ride in like the damn cavalry, huh? I was doing just fine all by myself, thank you very much."

"So you were *happy* to be flat on your back on that conference table? What was your plan of escape, wait until his pants got tangled around his ankles and make a run for it?" Chakotay shook his head, took a deep breath and let his emotions settle. 

He continued more quietly. "Tom, the Regent has been obsessed with you since Voyager made first contact. What happened tonight was part of some master plan to get you into his clutches. It looks like Nedal wants to accomplish that by getting this collar off my neck and around yours." 

Chakotay felt a surge of relief when Tom stopped pacing to listen. "That little scene tonight was arranged to provoke me into challenging him."

He shrugged. "I knew something was up when Sisryn sent me after you, but there wasn't any way to avoid the snare. I certainly couldn't stand by and let Nedal assault you, or worse, drag you off to some hidden lair on his ship."

Tom sighed and felt his own anger dissipate. If he were honest, the Regent had given him a bit of a scare and he *was* grateful to have been rescued yet again. Of course, he wasn't about to share that information with Chakotay. "I can't help thinking that you've gone into 'shining knight' mode, Chak. I don't know how protective you've been with anyone else, but I am *not* some damsel in distress."

Chakotay moved to stand in front of Tom. His conviction was clear in the dark brown eyes. "I never thought you were. Tom, the fact that *you* ended up on that table made no difference. I would not have acted any differently if Nedal had gone after someone I *wasn't* sleeping with. If it were Harry, B'Elanna, Seven, or any other member of Voyager's crew, the result would have been the same. There is simply no way I'd let *anyone* be brutalized."

He sighed and stepped back. "Now if you can't accept that, then maybe we need to end this right here. It's up to you. Either way, I'll be fighting Nedal the day after tomorrow, and in his bed when we reach the homeworld." 

Chakotay walked over to the control panel and turned it on. "I'm going to call up the bedroom program and add a computer terminal, so now would be a good time to leave."

A rueful grin crept across Tom’s face as he shook his head. "*You'll* be in the Regent's bed? Awfully sure of your victory, aren't you Chak?" He sauntered over to peer at the holodeck settings. "Put two terminals in there. We'll want to get the reports out of the way quick." 

Tom knew he wasn't going anywhere. His eyes drifted down his companion's dark blue garments, recalling the body underneath and making his plans. "Then the real work will begin."


	9. Chapter 9

/She's hopeless. Absolutely hopeless./ Tenderness blended with exasperation on Ken's face as he reached out a hand to snag a gray-clad elbow and stop his lover's fifth pass in front of the sofa. "Kathryn, it's not your fault," he said quietly.

"Of course it is, I---wait a second." Stormy eyes narrowed as Kathryn reclaimed her arm and sank down next to her lover. "What do *you* know about it?"

Ken shrugged and turned to face Kathryn more fully. "Chakotay sent me an encrypted account of what's been happening the last few days and asked me to be on the lookout for signs of ADBUG." 

Straight brows drew down in puzzlement "ADBUG? What's that?"

Ken placed both hands on Kathryn's shoulders. "Another Damn Bout of Unfounded Guilt." He shook her gently. "The Chief was hoping that *I* could talk some sense into you. It's important to him that you not blame yourself for this situation. So important he sacrificed his privacy to let me know in confidence what was going on."

Kathryn threw herself against the back of the couch. "You've got your work cut out for you, Ken." Her smile was wan. "I let my First Officer and friend accept that cursed seal, knowing that he was essentially prostituting himself for Voyager's trip through the wormhole. And yesterday I noticed---who could miss it?---that Nedal wanted Tom and hated Chakotay. So I should have done something to either keep them away from the Regent or safe in a crowd."

She stood to pace again, "And at the beginning of that disaster over there---" she jerked a thumb in the direction of their escort vessel "---that slimy bastard so much as came out and *told* me he was gunning for a member of my crew. I thought it might be Tom, but Chakotay was the one who got tangled up in Nedal's schemes."

Kathryn flopped onto the sofa once more. "I had a little chat with Milady and the Chief Consul before I beamed back tonight. They admitted that Nedal deliberately set up Chakotay, using Tom as bait. It was a win-win situation for that Rutali rat.”

At Ken’s lifted brows she continued. “If Chakotay hadn't shown up to stop the Regent, Tom would have disappeared into the royal cabin. And we would have had a hard time getting him out again. As it stands now, Chakotay is slated to fight the very man I'll be handing him over to once we reach Ruta." She dropped her head into her hands.

Ken wrapped an arm around Kathryn's shoulders and pulled her close. "Considering how upset you are, I'm stunned you let me in the door tonight. Even if you weren't planning to tell me anything. Thank you."

He rested his cheek on the top of her head. "Chakotay understood what he was getting into, Kathryn. He's willing to pay the price for helping to get us all a little closer to home. If we're lucky, a lot closer. And that's his decision, not yours."

Kathryn curled up a little closer as Ken continued. "Both Tom and Chakotay---hell, everybody on the ship---knew how the Regent acted yesterday. They're grown men and Starfleet officers. Those two are perfectly capable of assessing their own risk. And there was no reason to think either of them was in danger. Tuvok would have assigned a security detail if there had been any indication."

Ken sat forward and turned, lifting his lover's chin to peer into her still-guilty gaze. "They were attending a party, for gods' sake. And as for what Nedal said to you, unless it was 'I'm planning to kidnap your pilot' or 'I'm arranging an excuse to beat the crap out of your Commander' there's not much you could have done. If it *was* a total set-up, complete with accomplices, you were probably being deliberately distracted the whole time."

He sighed. "So please, just cancel the guilt trip. Chakotay doesn't blame you. I'm betting Tom didn't either. Nedal is the one to be angry at, not yourself. Besides," he smiled just a little, trying to lighten the mood, "I won't be able to sleep a wink if you're up all night wailing and gnashing your teeth. It'll be too damn noisy."

Kathryn snorted and leaned her forehead against Ken's. "All right. I'll rip up my boarding pass for the good ship Self-Recrimination. But only because you've made it sound like I'm blaming myself because Chakotay and Tom are three-year-olds without a brain in their heads."

She settled back into her lover's embrace. "Chakotay suggested in his report that I announce the existence of the wormhole tomorrow. Otherwise the crew will start questioning why we don't just turn back toward our original course and go on our merry way."

Ken nodded. "That makes a lot of sense. Are you going to mention Chakotay spending time on Ruta?"

Kathryn sighed. "We haven't decided how to word it yet, but yes, that will have to be part of the briefing."

"Then it's settled.” Ken dusted his hands. “You make your announcement, Chakotay turns the Regent into a punching bag, he does his time at the palace, we zip through the wormhole and put this all behind us."

Kathryn sighed and gave her lopsided grin. "You make it sound so easy." She captured Ken's eyes. "I'm glad I didn't shut you out tonight. I was going to, but Chakotay added a little note with his report demanding I not isolate myself to brood."

"The Chief did seem pretty adamant that you not be alone.” Ken grinned. “His message ordered me to comm him for an override if you refused to open the door."

"What?" Kathryn raised up a little in shock, then shook her head and reclaimed her spot, chuckling ruefully. "I think that damn title and shiny piece of jewelry are giving my First Officer delusions of grandeur---or insubordination."

She sobered and held Ken's hands, twining their fingers together. "I keep wondering what my answer would have been if they'd wanted me. There was a moment, before Sisryn offered the seal to Chakotay, when I thought...Ken, to be absolutely honest I don't know what I would have done."

She released their clasp to kneel on the cushions and lay a palm on that intriguing face. "The first word that popped into my head was 'No,' because of you." She searched his eyes. "But if it were really a choice between Voyager's well-being and my own feelings..." Her voice trailed off.

Ken gave his beloved, his Captain, a wistful, knowing smile. "There's no question, Kathryn. Your people come first. I've always known that was the price of letting you into my heart. I knew I loved you when I realized that it didn't matter."

He took her hand and kissed the palm, curling her delicate fingers around it. "A few years ago I'd be breaking furniture and yelling at the top of my lungs in protest. But now I understand that being a Starfleet Captain out here is a lot like being a Maquis. No safety net, no back-up. Sometimes circumstances force you into actions you otherwise wouldn't consider for a second.”

Ken took a deep breath. “So, for the record, I would have hated the idea of you being the Larat, but I'd still have kissed you good-bye at the palace gates," he smiled, "and hello again when you were free. And not thought any less of you for doing what you felt was right."

Kathryn's eyes filled as she hugged the ever-surprising man she'd never guessed would be such a soulmate. "I do love you, Ken, never doubt that. And I promise, my heart is always yours."

Ken returned the embrace and whispered into her ear, "And how about your hand, Kathryn? Any chance of trusting me with that as well?"

"What?" Kathryn moved back to look into the intense eyes. "Did you just propose to me?"

"Yes. But I don't expect an answer today, or even tomorrow." Ken's expression was tender as he tucked a strand of her hair behind one ear. "I just wanted you to know that if someday, you thought you could...well, I'll be waiting."

"I don't know how soon someday will come, Ken. But I can tell you to keep in mind that the question is when, not if, I'll marry you."

Tenderness and happiness blended in Ken’s smile. "That's all I wanted to hear, my love."

The two kissed, sealing their bond. Then Ken swept Kathryn into his arms and headed for the bedroom. The two opted for an early night.

***************

"Are you sure you're not still mad at me?" Chakotay's expression was a blend of doubt and uncertainty as he regarded his companion.

Tom laughed. "These aren't torture devices, Chakotay. They're designed to deliver pleasure, not pain." His long fingers played with the pile of items between the two men on the red-velvet-and-gilt backless settee. Tom had spent some time with the holodeck control panel while Chakotay had filed their reports on the incident with the Regent. 

His good humor faded. "Do you honestly think I want revenge because you pulled Nedal off me?"

"No, not really. I'm just nervous." Chakotay shrugged apologetically. "I'm feeling way out of my depth. I'm not even sure what half of these things are supposed to do."

"I guess I'll forgive you then. You've really never used any of this stuff before?" Tom was a little surprised. "None of your lovers had any toys?"

Chakotay tilted his head. "Well, only a few of the more traditional ones. Certainly nothing like this collection. I guess your past relationships were a lot more exciting than mine."

Tom sighed as he considered his many mostly shallow encounters. "Maybe you never needed these kinds of mood enhancers, Chak." He recalled the intense experiences he'd had under those capable hands. "You seem creative enough without them."

"Thanks." Chakotay sighed. "But I know I've seen at least some of them in the Rutali book, so I do need to get familiar with this sort of thing."

Puzzled brown eyes gazed at Tom. "I still don't understand it, though. I mean, if several of these items are supposed to be used *in* me, what do you get out of it?"

Tom considered his answer. "For the person using the toys, it's a way of...freeing your awareness. When you're having sex, part of your attention is on your partner and part is focused on your own body's responses. Especially near the end when it's a drive for release."

He lifted a wand covered in slick, soft material. "For example, if I use this when we're together, I can concentrate fully on you. Every nuance of expression, every little sound, the way your body tells me how it feels. I learn more about you. I discover your limits. I'm not distracted by my own passion, and your pleasure is my reward." 

His eyes drifted half-closed in anticipation. "It's a very sensual, intense experience."

"And if you're the recipient?" Tom's description made Chakotay more worried, not reassured. He wasn't sure he could handle such close scrutiny.

"I don't know, personally." Tom dropped his eyes, reminded of how unequal things were between the men. /I wonder why that bothers me so much. It never has with anyone else./ "But I've never had any complaints."

/Oh no you don't. I've already decided this is a non-issue./ Chakotay plucked the black object from the restless fingers. "So you want to start with this?"

Tom looked up and saw a flame of challenge kindled in the dark eyes. He felt his own desire spark. "Maybe. And a few other items to go with it." He carefully moved his pile to a low table within easy reach of the settee. "But first I need to grab the oil, and you need to get naked."

Chakotay paused midway to standing; he sat back down. His brows rose. "Just me?"

"There's really no reason for both of us to..." Tom paused and saw the tension had returned to the handsome features. He shook his head at his own insensitivity, smiled and said, "No, of course not."

Chakotay stood up again, relieved. "Thanks, Tom."

"Not a problem. I wasn't thinking." He touched one hand to a strong wrist. "I know this isn't easy for you."

"For you either, I think." Chakotay said, laying a bronzed hand over Tom's pale one. "I'm glad you're still here."

"Yeah, well, enough with the mushy stuff." But Tom was warmed by the hearth-fire glow of appreciation that briefly lit Chakotay’s eyes. He pulled away and retrieved the bottle of oil.

Chakotay moved to the hallway holding the refresher and swiftly stripped. He called up the beige caftan he usually wore here. He wasn't usually so shy in private, but he really was nervous, more than ever before. Not even Seska had had "toys" like those. The whole idea of someone wanting to use some of those devices---to actually stick things into him---was completely alien. 

And the added knowledge that Tom---his ever-tempting siren---would be avidly watching Chakotay's every move ratcheted his self-consciousness through the roof.

"We have to stop meeting like this," Tom joked as he passed, toting *his* clothes in a basket. "You're right, it does seem odd to just carry these things around." He dumped the garments into the 'fresher as Chakotay covertly admired the lean gilded limbs set against the blue silk of Tom's robe.

The two men walked back to the settee, a taut silence falling between them. When they stopped, Tom spoke quietly. "It's going to be all right, Chakotay. Trust me."

"You know I do." Chakotay took a deep breath. "So Professor, how does this lesson begin?" 

Tom's eyes narrowed in mock annoyance, but he appreciated the attempt at levity. "With something light and familiar, I think." He turned and made his selection from the stash of goodies nearby. "A feather." He held it up, then brushed the long scarlet plume very lightly against Chakotay's pillow-soft lips. He saw surprise in the dark orbs. "How does it feel?" he whispered.

"It tingles." Chakotay said softly, closing his eyes as the feather moved up to stroke along his brows. A broad sweep of sensation marked a pass across his forehead, then he felt the very tip dancing along the lines of his tattoo. A ticklish sensation caused him to chuckle as the plume made its way to one ear, swirling around the whorls and fluttering in the hollows.

Tom felt his whole focus drawn to the noble planes of his lover's face. He sent the feather over the proud cheekbones and along the solid jaw. He brushed the underside, then down the strong throat to the Rutali seal. "Computer, delete holographic garments," he said quietly.

Now his Titan stood in all his satin-sheened glory. The feather moved along the powerful shoulders as Tom watched Chakotay’s skin shiver under the light touch. He stroked down one arm, then detoured to where the Chakotay’s torso flowed inward to the trim waist. 

He gently poked the bellybutton, startling another chuckle out of Chakotay.

Chakotay opened his eyes, quivering under the feather's exploration. It was as though Tom was painting his body, waking every nerve ending with the whisper-light touches. He looked Tom’s face, drawn in and almost frowning in concentration. 

Then his attention shifted back to his own body when the plume skimmed his nipples, tightening them almost painfully. He gasped, and felt his cock twitch.

Tom's eyes slitted even more in satisfaction at the sight. He knew Chakotay was responsive, surprisingly so considering the man's remarkable self-control outside the bedroom. He fully intended to drive his lover into moaning anticipation and screaming ecstasy. The feather made its way down the carved muscles of those fantastic legs, flowing down the thighs, playing around the ticklish knees, stroking the graceful shinbones and teasing the neat ankles and well-cast feet.

Chakotay's toes lifted involuntarily, rippling up and down in the feather's wake. He wasn't sure whether to be relieved or concerned that Tom had completely ignored his wakening arousal.

Tom was breathing a little hard himself when he straightened and returned the feather to its berth. His fingers hovered over his collection, touching lightly here and there as if to remind themselves of the different textures available. They finally grasped a swatch of dark fur. "Perfect," Tom murmured approvingly, reacquainting himself with the luxuriousness of the silky hairs.

Chakotay watched as Tom slipped the material over one hand and approached. He was a little surprised to hear himself moan and shudder at the sensation of soft fur lazily roaming his chest and abdomen. He arched toward it a little.

Tom felt his own body react to that guttural, drawn-out sound. The view certainly didn't help dampen his ardor any. If he didn't act fast Chakotay's next texture would be the velvet of the settee as Tom started pounding into him. He shook away the enticing image and growled, "Turn around."

Chakotay gave him an uncertain survey from dilated blue eyes to semi-erect cock, but complied. 

Now Tom was faced with a lovely line of backbone accented by flowing muscles and encased in that silky flame-touched skin. He pushed the fur under the Rutali necklace, brushing up toward the night-black hair. Chakotay actually wriggled in reaction. T

Tom's face smoothed into a delighted smile as he repeated his action with an even more pronounced response.

"I bet you do a mean hula, Chak," Tom teased as he moved down to the shoulder blades and ribs. He lingered on the dimples at the base of the smooth back, earning him another shimmy.

"No I don't, it's just---Oh!" Chakotay was startled into a gasp at the brush of the swatch against his backside. His skin seemed sensitized, as if he could feel every separate strand of fur as it roamed his flesh. His knees nearly buckled as Tom moved down to explore his legs, down the backs and up to nestle in the small space between his inner thighs. "Oh my," he breathed.

/Maybe I'd better gag him. What the hell happened to *not* getting involved?/ Tom thought a little desperately as he regarded his own rampant erection. His body was reacting to the sight, and sounds, even the scent of their increasing arousal. He wanted to touch all that satiny bronzed skin, to taste it, to cover those strong limbs with his own. He moved back and took a moment to just breathe, to regain his control. Then he dropped the fur onto the pile and picked up a leather-looking strap fastened to form a circle in his hands.

Chakotay felt the absence of the fur, and heard Tom rustling behind him, but didn't turn. Then the living work of art appeared before him, blue eyes dark and glittering, long regal manhood jutting proudly. "Have you ever worn a cock ring, Chak?"

"No," he answered and looked at the device in the slender fingers. He tensed a little when Tom opened the strap and slipped it around his semi-hard cock. The touch of the pale hands was rousing him more as his lover tested and adjusted the fit. "Do I really need to?"

Tom nodded, trying to distract himself from the pulsing length under his hands. "It's in the book, and I'd like to see if you can have an orgasm without actually coming. Some guys can." He gave a rueful grin. "I'm not one of them, but your control seems better than mine."

"Not lately," Chakotay gasped as he involuntarily surged into the teasing grip, resting his hands on his partner's broad shoulders. His cock stiffened and filled, and he felt a light pressure from the ring.

Tom was fascinated by the way the sleek body seemed to yearn towards him. He stayed a few moments, playing with the soft hairs surrounding the textured scrotum. When his own erection jumped at Chakotay's groan he quickly freed himself and darted back to his table. "Kneel on the settee, Chak."

Chakotay carefully settled his body on the cushions, resting his hands on the scrolled arm. He was acutely aware of the velvet underneath his palms and lower legs. He turned his head to watch Tom, trying to stay relaxed.

Tom was carefully oiling the black wand that Chakotay had snatched from him earlier. He was also trying to will his erection to subside, but wasn't having much luck. /This makes no sense. I usually have no problems keeping my full concentration on my playmate. I spent an entire day playing with Seven's body and barely felt a twitch. Why can't I stay detached around my Titan?/

He finished and slowly spun, catching his breath again at the sight of Chakotay waiting for him. His gaze caressed the soles of Chakotay's feet, the rounded buttocks, the graceful line of back. He looked at Chakotay’s face, and saw the fire of wanting, but also a lingering shadow of uncertainty.

/It's better to learn what this is like at Tom's hands, rather than Nedal's./ Chakotay unclenched the muscles of his opening. His erection deflated somewhat as he anxiously estimated the length and thickness of the object about to enter him. He raised up on his knees a little, bracing his arms and facing forward. He was surprised to feel a warm hand on his shoulder, rubbing reassuringly.

"This isn't any wider than my cock, Chak, and we're not going to rush." As much as Tom wanted this, he felt a tinge of regret that tempered his desire. He wished for a moment that they were just two people who were exploring a mutual attraction, instead of a courtesan-in-training and his teacher.

He sighed and reclaimed his hand. He moved behind Chakotay, parted the bronzed cheeks and teased the opening with the slick wand. He felt the body in front of him shiver. He breached the puckered orifice, twisting the oiled length as he eased in and out, stroking a little deeper each time. Eventually he saw the tension in the stiff spine in front of him ease as Chakotay began trembling and restarted his long, low moans. Tom's shoulders relaxed and his cock firmed again, drawn into the moment.

Chakotay braced against the tremors in his forearms, felt his breathing hitch as the strange object became a welcome invader. The wand was both hard and soft, firmly pushing against his prostate. Each stroke sizzled through him, making his skin feel taut as the pressure rose inside and along his bound cock. 

His hands crushed velvet, his head dropped forward as he began pleading with his tormentor. "I have to take off the strap, Tom, I need release, I need to...to..."

Tom saw one trembling hand move away from the cushions and rose on his own knees, reaching around to stop its journey. "No, Chak. Let it build." He pressed himself against the powerful body, craving the heat pouring off the gleaming skin, inhaling the sweet, spicy scent. 

He rotated the wand again with his free hand and leaned close to nip a tempting ear. "You're so hot. Gods, I want you. It's all I can do not to rip this thing out of you and plunge in to the hilt. To pound into you until you carry me into oblivion. You have to come for me."

He felt Chakotay arch against him, rubbing back against Tom's chest. The moans had become panting breaths, almost sobs. 

Tom pushed the wand in deeper to a soft, choked cry. "Please Chak," he moaned, licking the sweat rolling down the side of his lover's neck. "Do it," he chanted, "Do it. Do it now. Do it---"

Chakotay felt like he had no memory, no mind, no will. There was only the torturous pressure: on his cock from the strap, on the hand still clenched in long pale fingers, and from the solid length inside him that pushed, and pushed, and pushed, unrelenting. He threw his head back and groaned as the build-up forced its way out of his throat and along his limbs, flashing lightning behind his eyes. 

He sagged onto the cool pale body behind him, shaking, acutely aware of the pulse beating in his cock, still rising hot and hard against his belly with his balls drawn up tight underneath it.

Tom felt like he nearly came himself, sweat-drenched and trembling, as Chakotay's dead weight fell into his arms. He kissed the throbbing temple, the flushed cheek, the corner of the lush mouth open in heaving breaths. He leaned forward and glanced down the gleaming bronzed body, lighting on the cock still straining for release. "You did it, Babe. I knew you could. Gods, that was incredible. You were incredible."

He carefully pulled the rod out of Chakotay's flesh, hearing a faint whimper as it finally slipped free. One hand soothed the still quivering body, luxuriating in the slick silk of dusky skin. The other reached over to the table, grabbing the oil and a length of dark beads tightly strung together.

He quickly poured the fluid into his palm and ran the string across it, shivering himself as the smooth orbs tickled his skin. He rested his chin on Chakotay's shoulder, noting the man's breathing had returned to normal. "I'm going to push these beads into you, Chak, one at a time. You're already opened up from the wand, so this should be a piece of cake. Then I'm going to free your cock."

"Wait." Chakotay pushed up a little, looking back and laying a hand on one lean muscled thigh. "Not alone. I want you to be part of this."

Tom shook his head. "I can't fuck you, the beads will be---"

"Then don't. Isn't there something else?" Chakotay shifted his shoulders to look fully at Tom. 

Tom felt like he'd been hanging on forever. His brain jumped erratically, making connections as he contemplated Chakotay's request. Gazed at Chakotay, seeing that the flames in the dark eyes were banked for the moment, smoldering sensuously. /Gods, he's right, I have to come. He's driven me too close to the edge. Gods. God of fire. No wait, Titan. My Titan. Greeks. What did the Greeks do?/

He moaned when he remembered, leaning forward to slant his mouth over the rosy lips a heartbeat away. He was immediately overwhelmed, Chakotay's skilled tongue pillaging, forcing his surrender as it wantonly stroked his teeth and gums, tracing patterns on the inner walls of his mouth. His body thrust forward blindly, then Tom found the will to pull free. 

"Yes, there's something else." His voice was hoarse, his hands trembling as they poured a little more oil. He quickly shifted back to coat the skin of Chakotay's inner thighs, slathering from his ballsac back into the crease. "I'm going to put the beads in now." He began pushing them in, watching as the strand was absorbed into his lover's depths, his cock jumping as each one disappeared.

Chakotay had turned again, spreading his legs a little more when he understood what Tom wanted to do. He felt each individual bead as it popped past his anus, but lost track of how many Tom filled him with. A few remaining beads and bits of string brushed against his ass as he felt Tom move closer, settling his knees inside the space between Chakotay's calves. 

Then a hot solid length, both softer and harder than the wand, slipped under the edge of Chakotay’s buttocks and between his thighs. His moan found an echo behind him as the top of Tom's cock slid along the bottom of his scrotum. He shifted back, sitting full in his lover's lap and lowering his hands to stroke and tease the long, gold-sprinkled legs.

Tom pushed forward again, relishing the heat of those powerful hands on his skin. He ran his fingers up to Chakotay's shoulders, circling and stroking. He slipped his arms under their counterparts to spread his fingers against that smooth coppery chest and rested his chin beside the gold circlet.

"Watch me, Chakotay," his hot breath washing over an ear earned him another shiver that he felt against his cock. "How dark you look against my hands. I'm going to touch you all over with them. I don't want to miss an inch of your skin." 

He sucked an earlobe. "I'm going to have you the way the Greeks took their young men, my cock sliding between your strong thighs. I've wanted this for days."

Both men began moaning as Tom started his journey, lifting his hands to frame the Rutali crystal a moment. Then he began long slow strokes down the sweat-sheened chest, tracing the muscles, tweaking and pulling the dark nipples. He felt Chakotay lift his torso, arching into the strokes and offering more. Tom moved lower, counting the ribs, trying to span the waist. 

All the time he was pumping into the cradle of Chakotay's slick thighs, leaning his pelvis up to start his stroke at the bottom edge of the cleft, encasing himself in satin heat. The teasing brush of the anal beads caused him to gasp when the string caught between their bodies.

Chakotay felt Tom's shaft stroking his skin, touching him in places rarely visited by another. He watched, mesmerized, as the sharp contrast of the long pale fingers drifted to his thighs to grope and pinch lightly. He began shifting restlessly in the encircling arms, the tension building again. "Please Tom, I can't take much more," he panted as the pressure on his cock edged near pain.

"Yeah, Babe, it's time. Gods, it's past time." Tom began pistoning faster as one hand moved back to grip the beaded string and another traveled forward to undo the strap binding Chakotay’s cock. 

He heard Chakotay's groan as the blood surged unimpeded through his freed cock. Tom braced his forearm against a sleek hip, holding Chakotay in place as he began teasing the rigid cock and balls in time with his own punishing thrusts against the muscled body. As Chakotay's groans changed in pitch, much lower this time, Tom readied his hands.

When Chakotay finally came, Tom held his lover in place as he milked the spurting cock with one hand and ripped the string from the spasming portal with the other. He felt Chakotay lose control, surging back and up trying to find some outlet for the tension and energy. 

He grabbed Chakotay’s hips and pounded, his pelvis driving ever forward as his semen blasted the underside of Chakotay's straining body, dripping down his thighs. Tom saw stars as he grunted through the final thrusts, eventually flopping forward to press close to Chakotay as Chakotay sank back. 

"Are you okay, Chak?" Tom asked when he regained some control of his breath.

Chakotay was still lost in a daze. When the cock ring was finally gone he'd abandoned himself to passion, wanting nothing more than release. 

Tom's body had heightened his need, clever hands granting relief and sensation while Tom’s cock pulsed with its relentless heat. Then Chakotay’s orgasm hit and he'd been trapped in a vise of pleasure, as Tom pumped Chakotay’s cock with one hand and used the other to pull out the beads. He'd again felt each smooth orb as it left him. The sensations finally drove him to a frenzy as he felt Tom come, coating Chakotay’s skin with the evidence of his own fulfillment.

Chakotay swallowed. "I think so." He let his fingertips wander among the hairs on Tom's thighs a moment before lifting his head from a broad pale shoulder. He turned, meeting the sated blue eyes. "Thanks, Professor, for a most interesting lesson." 

He smiled. "And especially for not staying in your ivory tower like a true academic."

Tom grinned, feeling a warm spot in his own chest as he basked in the gentle warmth of his partner's gratitude. "I assure you, the pleasure was all mine. And a hands-on approach always seems to work best."

Both men just rested, sharing glances, propping each other up. Finally Tom broke the silence. "I don't think I can make it to the bed," he admitted.

"Me neither. Let's just move the bed over here." Chakotay gave the instructions, and soon they were sluggishly pulling the cover down and crawling underneath.

Tom’s forehead wrinkled as he contemplated the situation. "You know, all this gunk is going to dry overnight. We're going to be a real mess tomorrow."

Chakotay blinked. "We'll either hit the pool or the shower in the morning." He yawned. "Let me know what you prefer."

Tom was a little surprised when he was decisively pulled into a warm embrace. "Sorry's cold f'you. Stick close. Share bod'heat." Chakotay slurred sleepily.

Tom felt a flash of panic, then gave a mental shrug and settled into the strong arms. He figured he was just saving himself a midnight trip across the mattress. After all, this was where his body wanted to be.


	10. Chapter 10

/She's hopeless. Absolutely hopeless./ "B'Elanna, give it a rest. I've told you everything I know." Harry could hear the exasperation edging his tone. "You're like a targ with a piece of gristle---stop chewing on it!"

B’Elanna gave a fierce grin and made a show of thoroughly masticating her current bite of pancakes. She swallowed and said, "But Starfleet, there *has* to be more to it. Chakotay canceled our bat'leth match a few nights ago. Because, it turns out, he was locked in the holodeck with *Tom*. Working on some secret gift for the Rutali Regent."

She leaned forward and used her fork for emphasis. "The *same* Regent who was searching for Tom during the garden party over here. The one who tried to slap Chakotay down at that damn information exchange."

The Mess Hall chair creaked as B’Elanna flung herself back into it. "And now you tell me that last night this p'tahk assaulted Tom, was stopped by Chakotay, and is now slated to go one-on-one with one of my best friends some time tomorrow." 

She puffed a frustrated breath through her lips. "Now I wish I'd gone to that stupid shindig."

"Why didn't you?" Harry was genuinely curious. "With all the supplies and energy we've gotten from the Rutali, the ship is in great shape. So it can't be work problems, yet you've been lying pretty low since we left the colony world."

"I've been playing it safe. Every time I see that old woman I want to tear her head off." B'Elanna's eyes smoldered with remembered rage. "Do you know what she told me in that reception hall?" She imitated Milady, "She said, 'At first glance you have the look of a hunter, but neither the patience nor the skill. Anyone can go berserk and rip apart their prey; it takes much more to stalk, and trap, and strike to kill with one well-placed blow'."

Harry tried not to flinch as the fork swept toward him on the end of B'Elanna's angrily waving arm as B’Elanna continued to rant. "She'd barely *met* me, and she's spouting insults like that? She's lucky I didn't show her just how well I can rip things apart." The half-Klingon seemed to be demonstrating her abilities as she again attacked her plate.

"Huh. Nobody's said anything like that to me, though my run-in with the Regent wasn't pretty. Trapped on a deserted garden path with someone tall, tawny, and terrifying is not my idea of a good time." Harry took a thoughtful bite of his own breakfast. "I was pretty scared for Tom last night when I realized Nedal was going after him." 

Harry shuddered. "I'm just glad the Commander reached them in time."

"Yeah, but now Chakotay's supposed to what, go a couple rounds with the guy, or lose his position as liaison." B'Elanna's eyebrows quirked in puzzlement. "I'm surprised the Captain didn't lodge a protest, or just cancel the whole trip. I mean, we've finished all of our trading, so why bother going to Ruta at all?"

"Well, it's supposed to be a great honor," Harry shrugged.

"I know, but is it really worth Chakotay possibly getting hurt? Nedal's got at least six centimeters and 15 kilos on him." B'Elanna nodded decisively. "There's *got* to be something we don't know. Besides what that gift is."

She looked at Harry. "What could possibly take so long to create, and why would Helmboy be involved? Chakotay I can understand, he's a skilled artisan, but *Tom*?" 

Harry defended his friend. "Hey, he may not be Mr. Arts and Crafts, but Tom does have an eye for beauty." 

He snorted. "Though I admit *I* don't have a clue what they could be working on *all night*. Every night. And Tom hasn't breathed a clue---which is *not* the typical Paris MO. He should be torturing me with cryptic hints by now."

B'Elanna polished off her breakfast and stood with a sigh. "Well, one thing I do know is that Chakotay and I are going to have a chat. Soon."

Harry finished and got up as well. "And *I* know if you want my help with that diagnostic we'd better start now or we'll be late for the staff meeting. Let's go."

***************

Chakotay's eyes opened to the molded ceiling of the ornate bedchamber, washed in the first blush of dawn. From the even breaths against his skin, he surmised Tom was still in the depths of dreams.

He glanced down to see the top of Tom's gold head where it lay against his own shoulder and chest. The rest of the man was cuddled against his side, one arm stretched across his waist and a single leg firmly wrapped around his thigh.

Handling the long body as if it were as delicate as its porcelain coloring suggested, Chakotay separated from his bedmate. Then he shifted onto his side and propped his head on his hand, simply studying the sleeping beauty. 

The vision called up memories of art-history classes. Tom could have been the model for any number of angels and young gods from the Renaissance through the pre-Raphaelites. His face was the epitome of innocence, gilded lashes brushing cheeks delicately flushed from slumber. 

The aristocratic lines of brow and nose and jaw were more pronounced now, free from the myriad expressions that kept Tom’s face ever in motion during Tom's waking hours. Tom’s lips were likewise exquisite in their stillness, spared the sarcastic twist that sometimes marred their gentle curves.

Chakotay sighed as he admitted that while a sleeping siren held great appeal, he keenly missed the energy that usually animated the handsome features. The teasing grin, the focused frown, the narrowed-eyed glare of suspicion, the sly quirk of nonverbal innuendo, and especially, the soft understanding smile that had only revealed itself in this room.

One finger reached out to trace the tempting mouth. Chakotay shook himself out of his daze and snatched his hand back. He'd been operating on automatic, mindlessly intending to caress Tom to wakefulness. To see bright eyes blink away the mists of dreams and begin to sparkle with mirth and mischief. To snap with intelligence and invention. To swirl with concern and compassion. To glow with...love?

Chakotay groaned soundlessly and closed his own eyes, his chin dropping to his chest in defeat. /There, I said it. Well, I thought it, anyway./ 

Despite all his stern warnings to himself not to get involved, the obviously unromantic nature of their union, the glaring inequality of their physical relationship, the utter futility of the situation, Chakotay had fallen in love with Tom Paris. His emotional discipline and considerable sense of self-preservation were nothing before the lure of the siren's call. He had helplessly, hopelessly succumbed.

If he were more stubborn or less honest, he might have managed to ignore that salient fact until Voyager reached Ruta. Instead, he'd finally acknowledged the truth. And now he didn't even have the comforting illusion of self-deception anymore. He was going to be hurt, badly, and he had nobody to blame but himself.

When Chakotay originally approached Tom for help in expanding his sexual horizons, he'd expected a purely physical fling. There was no reason for feelings to become an issue. While he had never had a casual relationship, Tom was a grand master of them. They would fuck for a week, then go their separate ways. Tom back to playing the field and Chakotay to the Regent's bed, hopefully skilled enough to shave a few more years off of Voyager's journey.

But Chakotay had immediately entered into familiar patterns of behavior. That was his mistake----he'd treated Tom like every other lover in his life. He had offered massages and cozy meals, he'd sought intimacy through word and action, he'd nurtured the connection between them. He'd trusted his partner completely and unreservedly. And in opening his mind and soul to the younger man, he'd lost his heart. It had taken less than five days.

He'd never expected Tom to be so...compelling...in private. The person who had been a friend over the years became even more attractive when they were alone. Such an intriguing blend of streetwise cynic and wide-eyed optimist. Entertaining and thought-provoking. Fun and philosophical. And, when faced with Chakotay's inexperience, surprisingly understanding and supportive.

But as wonderful a creature as his siren had shown himself to be, he should not have been able to claim Chakotay's soul so profoundly. The temporary nature of their joining *should* have prevented it; they were never free from the looming specter of Nedal. The ever-present weight of the crystal around his own neck was another cold reminder of the reality of Larat. If nothing else, the simple fact that Tom was a man should have been ample protection for Chakotay's heart.

Tom was the only male to ever spark Chakotay's interest or libido. That made it unlikely that Chakotay would ever consider a long-term commitment to one, even on that unconscious level where attraction and love are born. It was simple logic: he'd never been drawn to men, so he probably wasn't capable of forming the most primal connection to one. Therefore, his reaction to Tom should never have developed past physical infatuation.

Chakotay opened his eyes, checking that Tom was still asleep. He was grateful; he knew his expression would have revealed far too much at that moment. Love, desire, the pain of regret. Chakotay needed to get control of his feelings, to bury them again and school his features into something that wouldn't scare Tom off. 

He only had three more days with the man who had lit such a flame of longing in his heart. He refused to lose those precious hours by burdening Tom with unrequited love. Or to waste them by wishing for things that had no hope of coming true.

There was no way Tom could love Chakotay. A key element for that emotion was missing in the younger man with regard to his current bedmate: trust. Without that essential ingredient, love was no more possible than fire in pure vacuum. 

Chakotay had been forced by circumstances---though later by choice---to place himself, body and soul, into Tom's hands. And his siren had risen to the occasion, soothing and protecting the spirit even as he bestowed pleasure on the flesh. But while Tom continuously demanded affirmation of Chakotay's trust in him, Tom offered little in return.

It was sad, but true. Tom always held back a part of himself. He had never suggested a reversal of roles. He was always hyper-aware when Chakotay's hands were on him, as if he were ready to bolt the second Chakotay strayed from the unwritten rules that defined their affair.

For reasons Chakotay would probably never know, Tom preferred not to let down the protective barriers around his emotions or even his body. He prayed that the condition was a fundamental part of Tom's make-up, or had developed at some point in the handsome man's past. It would be devastating to learn that Chakotay's own actions or attitude had somehow sparked Tom's fears.

Perhaps if he'd had more time, Chakotay could have eased Tom's suspicions, found a way to offer reassurance, to augment the white-hot sparks of passion with the abiding warmth of love. But even now the clock was ticking, counting down until the moment they reached Ruta.

Chakotay shook his head, banishing the false comfort of the lie. /I really am too damn self-aware for my own good./ If he were brutally honest with himself, it seemed unlikely that Tom and he could ever have anything lasting. Chakotay was too different from the type of person that usually drew that carefree spirit. And even if he succeeded in waking Tom's love, the emotions---kindled under these bizarre circumstances---would in all probability never have survived the fundamental betrayal inherent in his own sojourn as Nedal's plaything.

Chakotay leaned forward and brushed the faintest of kisses along the wide brow of the man slumbering against the white sheets. The man who unknowingly held Chakotay’s heart in uncaring hands.

He sighed. He knew he couldn't have love, but he had found a fragile peace. He would enjoy what he had, continuing to show Tom trust and passion. Love would stay out of sight, if not out of mind, and when they parted ways Chakotay would have some very special memories. Hopefully they would ease the pain of losing what was likely the other half of his soul. It would have to be enough.

Chakotay quietly slid from the bed and left his siren to his dreams.

************************************************************

Tom woke with a frown. The second his eyes opened he knew the cause: he was alone in the enormous Rutali bed.

He bolted upright and scanned the room. He relaxed when his searching gaze lighted on Chakotay, curled in a sofa corner reading the alien book. The night-black hair was damp, and he was dressed in the  
outfit from the evening before. The rustling brought up twinkling brown eyes as Chakotay called, "Good morning, sleepyhead."

Tom was still a little unsettled. He'd gotten used to greeting the day curled around his Titan. "You could have awakened me," he groused a little sulkily.

Broad shoulders shrugged. "It's still early. I had to get ready for a meeting with the Captain to hammer out the wording of today's announcement, but there was no need to cut short your rest as well."

Tom’s voice dropped. "We could have shared a shower. Or another bath."

Chakotay looked at the slim figure set against the ruby, white and gold of the bed. His desire leapt to the fore at the heat of the memories, and the possibilities of Tom's suggestion. But as he considered the images, a less-than-pleasant realization dawned on him. 

His passion faded as speculation rose, whirling through his mind. His eyes dropped thoughtfully to the ornate tome in his lap as he began carefully turning the pages. "Ah well, such is life."

Tom leaned back, uncertain. /Where is my teasing, tempting Titan?/ He noticed his robe laying on the ruby coverlet, and hastily rose and wrapped himself in it. As he approached the sofa, he made a last-minute course adjustment when he noticed his body was heading for the cushioned arm with a vague notion of draping himself over Chakotay in order to read over his shoulder.

Instead he chose to settle his frame in the other corner, tucking his legs under. "What part are you reading?" His voice held only curiosity.

Chakotay closed the volume a moment, then reopened to another section farther back. "I'm trying to decide on my official outfits." The dark eyes were rueful as they peered at Tom. "It's pretty obvious these things weren't designed by the people who have to wear them."

"No, but you have to admit they *are* creative." Tom’s unformed unease was starting to fade somewhat as Chakotay seemed to come back to himself. Tom grinned, "Are you sure you don't want me to help you out? We could have another fashion show."

"No thanks, I got into enough trouble with the last one. Besides," Chakotay rolled his eyes, "there's no way I'm even *thinking* about putting on some of those pieces of glorified dental floss they call clothes."

"You'd look magnificent." Tom's eyes lingered here and there on his companion.

"I'd look like an idiot." Chakotay countered. "I'm 39, not 19." 

He didn’t try to stifle a fond smile. Tom looked pretty young himself, curled up in a corner like a kid waiting for a story. 

Chakotay’s expression faltered as he had an urge to ruffle the tousled fair hair and brush a quick kiss across those smiling lips. He'd have to be on his guard against such casual actions. He knew he tended to express too much through touch. 

After a quick recover, he tilted his head to ask, "Is 2000 tonight good for you?"

"Yeah, it'll give me some time to eat and catch up with Harry." /Pity though, I'd love to have dinner with you again. Even in the Mess Hall./ Tom dismissed the thought and desperately searched for a new topic. "I'm surprised you didn't head back to your cabin for a uniform."

"I didn't want you to wake alone. I'll change later; it's not like I'm on duty yet. Sometimes it's good to keep the boundaries clear." He shrugged and stood, hefting the book. "See you at the staff meeting." With a small smile and nod, Chakotay left the holodeck.

Tom continued to sit, frowning. *Something* had happened between sleeping and waking to alter Chakotay's attitude. There was a hesitation in their conversation just now, as if the awkwardness that should have existed between them all along had suddenly asserted itself. 

He’d sensed the start-and-stop of Chakotay's movement toward him. He *knew* his Titan was going to lean forward with some gesture of affection. He'd been anticipating it, the gentle brush of hands or lips against his skin.

But now he was alone in the Larat's bedroom without even the lingering warmth of Chakotay's touch. He felt cheated somehow. Tom acknowledged the irony: he was deliberately withholding part of himself, body and soul, from this joining, yet he denied his partner the same privilege. 

/Tough luck. That's the way it is./ Tom’s jaw set as he stood and headed for the shower. /I can't do anything about it now. But later...you won't hold *anything* back from me. That much I promise you, my Titan./

************************************************************

Seven straightened her spine another millimeter. "I seek to understand."

The blunt statement caused Tuvok to lift an eyebrow along with his head as he regarded the resident ex-Borg. Seven still had a stiffness to her movements that clearly marked her as a former drone as she sat with military precision at the Mess Hall table. He gave a mental sigh and set aside his padd. "What is the nature of your inquiry?"

"The announcements at the morning briefing. Before Voyager gains access to the Rutali wormhole, Commander Chakotay must remain at the royal palace for an indeterminate length of time,” Seven stated.

Tuvok did not bother to nod. "That is correct."

"What purpose does his incarceration serve?" The pale forehead creased. "Has the Commander committed some crime?"

Tuvok steepled his fingers. "You have made an incorrect association in this matter. Firstly, the Commander has committed no crime. He is not scheduled to serve time as a prisoner on Ruta; he will be a guest of the Regent. Mr. Chakotay is the official representative of Voyager. The Rutali wish to understand our people more fully before granting access to their wormhole."

A frown lowered Seven’s unadorned eyebrow. "This method is inefficient. A single person cannot adequately represent the totality of Voyager's collective."

While privately Tuvok agreed, he endeavored to explain their hosts’ perspective. "The Rutali are of a different opinion. They prefer to know one person well rather than have a slight acquaintance with many."

"Then they have chosen unwisely.” Seven’s declaration was delivered with her usual matter-of-fact air. “The Commander is not typical of Voyager's crew."

One dark brow raised in inquiry. "Mr. Chakotay is brave, intelligent, honorable, loyal, and a diligent officer. In what way is he anomalous?"

Seven resisted standing to deliver her analysis. "He often disagrees with the Captain's assessments of situations. He comes from a people that deliberately eschew the trappings and philosophies of this century, and he sundered his connection to the Federation collective. He espouses beliefs that are in decided minority among the people he is supposed to represent."

"Perhaps it is that very uniqueness that attracts the Rutali, for it is *they* who have chosen him. I am certain that he will acquit himself with his usual aplomb.” Tuvok paused. “While *you* may not consider the Commander an appropriate candidate, the Captain approved the selection. She too has confidence in the First Officer's abilities."

The blue eyes were blank, processing the information. Seven’s next question was a non sequitur. "Then the aliens have no hostile intentions toward Voyager?"

"Not toward the ship, no." On a more personal level, Tuvok was not so sure.

"But the leader of the Rutali has challenged the Commander to single combat.” Seven’s head tilted. “Is that not a hostile act?"

/I see now it would have been better to consume the noon meal in my cabin./ Tuvok suppressed another sigh. "Commander Chakotay and Lieutenant Paris were involved in an altercation with the Regent. More precisely, a misunderstanding. Nedal...desired Mr. Paris and made...physical overtures.”

Tuvok recalled the rest of the incident report. “The Commander, believing the Lieutenant would refuse, but was unable to, stepped forward to lend his assistance. In Rutali culture, such actions gave the Regent the right to demand satisfaction for what he deemed an insult to his authority. Thus, the duel." He spread his hands in closing.

"To express aggression through physical conflict without intent to conquer territory or defeat enemies is without merit and a waste of resources." Seven seemed insulted by the obvious inefficiency.

Tuvok gave a mental shrug. "Juvenile would have been my assessment, but our opinions are irrelevant. The Rutalis' traditions must be honored. It is the Starfleet way."

"At times the Prime Directive is most...inconvenient,” Seven concluded.

Thinking of the fight to come, Tuvok could only agree. "Indeed."

************************************************************

"This is a highly unusual situation," Sisryn said, her hand fluttering around her crystal as she tried to keep her voice calm. "A Larat has never entered the arena with a Regent in all of our history."

Chakotay leaned his elbows on the conference room table, distracted for a moment by the anthropological implications. "Then how did this challenge become part of your law?"

"Physical combat is the method by which the Rutali decide most questions of rights and power,” Sisryn explained. “The Regent can be challenged anywhere, anytime, by any citizen. He must, within three days, prove his worthiness to wear the seal by defeating his opponent in a full blood rite."

"And then the loser just disappears back into the woodwork? Why wouldn't he or she just come back with an army?" Kathryn couldn't picture any of these proud people simply slinking off in disgrace.

"As Milady intimated at the time of challenge, Captain, the match is to the death. That's what makes the transfer of power so inevitable. If the Regent is victorious there is no more usurper. If the challenger succeeds, there is no one standing between him or her and the seal." The Chief Consul noted that the three faces before her had stilled as the repercussions for the Commander sank in. Even the unemotional Vulcan seemed affected.

She hastened to remind them. "This combat, however, is not so dire. The Larat is not a Rutali citizen, and he did not truly challenge Nedal's right to rule, merely the Regent’s actions in this one circumstance. The combat simply tests Chakotay's worthiness of remaining the Larat. That title and position are temporary. Hence, the consequences, that is, the wounds sustained, must also be temporary."

"What form of fighting does the match entail? Are weapons involved?" Tuvok was very much interested in the answer to his questions. If the duel used alien armaments, he fully intended to familiarize both himself and the Commander with their operation. Their First Officer would not go into battle unprepared.

The Security Chief's tactical instincts, though he wouldn't call them that, were on high alert. He believed Voyager's crew, especially the Commander, were being manipulated by their hosts. It didn't ease his perturbation one iota that the Rutali had been so blasé about admitting their duplicity in arranging this bout. 

Unfortunately, the wormhole's existence ensured that he and his colleagues would continue to, as Lieutenant Paris would phrase it, put up *and* shut up. The dark eyes narrowed. But not to the point of allowing a valued officer to be badly injured merely to satisfy some petulant royal's taste for blood. /Not to mention the fact that devotion to logic does not preclude me from being concerned about my friend./

"The arrangements are fairly straightforward. The large reception room you saw last night will be adjusted to accommodate the challenge. The Commander and the Regent will fight without weapons, and the first combatant to knock the other unconscious wins."

"Sounds almost like boxing," Chakotay remarked as he and Kathryn shared a look.

"You may use any fighting style you wish," the Chief Consul continued, bringing forth a box, "but these items *must* be worn by both fighters." She opened the lid to reveal dark brown leather-look gloves.

Chakotay picked up one and slid it over his left hand. It was much like a driving glove, except it had extra padding and material over the fingertips. He flexed his hand experimentally and secured the wristband. The fit was perfect. "Do all Rutali wear these in ritual combat?"

"Actually, several pair have been altered from the traditional style for tomorrow's match." She indicated the thickened tips. "Those guards are designed to prevent Rutali claws from piercing the material and doing serious damage." 

Sisryn shrugged. "The Regent is known to be quick, and relentless, while fighting. The padding guarantees that even if he forgets and unsheathes his claws, they won't be able to reach you."

Chakotay considered the Rutali. "Are these protections your invention?" At the quick duck of a tawny head, he smiled softly. "Thank you."

Sisryn waved away the thanks. "I'm simply doing my job." She straightened and addressed them more briskly. "If it is amenable to you, the match will take place at noon tomorrow aboard the flagship."

Kathryn looked at the gloves and sighed. "Since we really don't have a choice in this, what does it matter what time it happens?" She glanced at her friend and First Officer. "Is that all right with you?"

Chakotay shrugged. "As you say, what difference does it make." He grinned, trying to lighten the atmosphere. "I'll just adjust my luncheon plans."

Kathryn gave him an exasperated, grateful look, while Tuvok simply raised a brow at the joke. The officers stood to leave, but paused when Sisryn remained seated. "Chief Consul?" the Captain inquired.

"If I may, I would ask a private moment to speak to the Larat." Sisryn’s fingers were again playing with the minister's seal.

Chakotay considered the nervous woman a moment, then nodded at his colleagues and heard them depart. He chose to move to a seat next to Sisryn. "What is it?"

"I just wanted to say, that is, you should know...I'm sorry about what happened." The alien's face was sad and ashamed. "As I told your Captain last night, Nedal ordered me to distract you, then when the time was right to send you after Tom." 

She dropped her eyes and her hands to her lap. "And to corral and deliver the witnesses on schedule."

Chakotay stilled the fingers restlessly twining on Sisryn's knees with one hand. "You didn't have a choice, did you?" he asked softly.

"No, Chakotay, I didn't. This was not something I'd do voluntarily." Her lips twisted in distaste. "The challenge is supposed to be a true test of worthiness, given and accepted with full knowledge. To orchestrate such an elaborate ruse simply to trap you into a fight---and for no better reason than to bed some *blond*---"

"Easy," he soothed, trying to calm down his companion. "What's done is done. The Regent's plan worked and the fight is set. Nothing will change that, especially your getting upset. And just between you and me," he gave an embarrassed smile, "Tom is more than just 'some blond'."

"Oh no," Sisryn breathed, "he's your friend, isn't he? The one who's helping you to prepare."

"Yes, he is," Chakotay admitted, his cheeks beginning to heat.

"No wonder Nedal is so angry. He probably learned of your...association." She sighed in despair. "That makes what I'm about to ask of you even more necessary, but also makes it a near unbearable task."

"You wanted to ask me for something?" Chakotay was surprised.

"To ask you to do something." She looked into compassionate dark eyes and felt even worse. She took a deep breath. "I'd like you to lose the match with the Regent."

"What? You want me to throw the fight?" Chakotay leaned back in bewilderment.

"Yes." Sisryn clutched those warm, powerful hands in anxious fingers. "If Nedal is defeated by a mere human, he will lose face before the prides. That could lead to a true challenge to his reign, and bring chaos and anarchy raining upon us all."

She tried to convey her desperation. "When a Regent is killed by a less than worthy successor---it happens, anyone can get lucky---the prides go into a state of civil war, sending champion after champion until a victor finally emerges. Usually only after the lifeblood of dozens of good people has been spilled."

"And you think that Nedal could be at risk?" Chakotay's head was whirling.

Sisryn shrugged. "He has already shown a lack of discretion in his pursuit of Tom Paris. If he is beaten by you, he will appear weak, and ripe for overthrow." 

Her shoulders slumped in misery. "There is no one I know of who could be considered as strong a leader. The constant battles would begin again. I know that you have your own sense of self-esteem, Chakotay, and again this is not your concern, but I am asking you to stand aside for the welfare of all of the Rutali. For in truth, no matter how remarkable a Larat you make, you are not as irreplaceable as a powerful Regent."

"No, Sisryn, I can't," Chakotay's gaze was compassionate but his voice certain. "I'm sorry, but there's too much at stake. As much as I understand the unfortunate situation you're in, and sympathize with your wish to protect your people, I can't *let* Nedal win."

He looked away and his voice lowered, "Even if I could convince myself that the greater good would be worth living the lie, the fact is that I will not let anyone else become the Larat. Nedal is a cruel, petty despot. And I could never conscience deliberately putting Tom---and let's face it, it would be Tom---in his hands."

"Because he is your lover," Sisryn nearly choked on the bitter words.

"Because he is my crewmate, and my responsibility." Chakotay sighed. "And yes, because he is my lover." /Though mostly because he is my love and I couldn't bear to see him hurt./

"I understand." Sisryn said, resigned. She stood and looked down at the Larat. "But I had to ask."

"I know." Chakotay gave her a sad smile, then stood and rested a hand on Sisryn's shoulder, guiding the Chief Consul to the door. "You may be jumping to conclusions, you know. Nedal is both taller and stronger than me." 

He shrugged. "It could very well be that I don't stand a chance against him."

Sisryn paused in the corridor to turn serious golden eyes on the human. "One thing I am certain of, Chakotay, is that you are not a man to be underestimated." She touched his hand. "Until tomorrow."

Chakotay bowed and watched her walk away.


	11. Chapter 11

/This is hopeless. Absolutely hopeless./ Tom sprawled on the sofa in his cabin, one long arm stretched across his eyes. He almost didn't recognize the place, it seemed so long since he'd spent any length of time there. It even felt odd to be alone. He didn't particularly want to be in his quarters now, but it was only 1900 and he wasn't due to meet Chakotay until later.

Dinner had not been a rousing success. Harry had pestered him for information on the gift, and interrogated him for more details about yesterday's encounter with Nedal. Tom suspected that Harry---or someone less naive---had noticed there was more going on than the official reports revealed. 

Normally Tom would have been in his wisecracking glory, taunting Harry with hints, dropping clues that no one would be able to unravel.

But not this time. He carefully guarded Chakotay's privacy and his own. Harry didn't get a crumb to nibble on, even if he was Tom's best friend. 

Tom also continued to behave circumspectly in public, treating the First Officer with the bantering blend of respect and friendship they'd developed after years of serving together. Somewhere along the line this pseudo-relationship had become extremely important to Tom. Too important.

That disturbing thought sent Tom to his feet, to restlessly pace the confines of its domain. Golden brows drew together in concentration as Tom considered his problem.

Bottom line, he was afraid of Chakotay. In many ways, on a myriad of levels. His beautiful, wise, witty, strong, sincere, sexy Titan was nothing like the people he usually took to bed. Despite that, Chakotay felt so *right* in his arms. 

His Titan was indeed a creature of fire, and Tom felt he was becoming a moth to the many flames revealed in the dark eyes. The sparks of amusement and even annoyance, the smoky embers waiting to be kindled into desire, the compassion and caring that reached out like a hearth fire to wrap Tom in warmth, the holocaust of passion that threatened to overwhelm his body and soul. 

He sensed that with very little effort Chakotay could become the first real love of Tom's life. Chakotay had the potential to become his everything: colleague, confidant, buddy, playmate, lover, lifemate, husband---the very center of his existence. And that scared the shit out of Tom.

His mental ramblings and physical meanderings had brought him to a table. His eyes fell upon a picture there, set in an antique frame. He lifted the object and stared at the images, an impromptu portrait of a perfect Starfleet family. 

Tom focused on a particular face, the lasting image of the single most influential person in his life. The one family member who had shaped his perceptions of love so profoundly that they compelled his relationship decisions to this day. Miriam Paris. His mother.

One finger stroked over the beautiful blonde's face. Long before this particular picture was taken Tom had learned to read those smiling cerulean eyes. To see the shadows that lay within their depths, hidden behind the façade of satisfied wife. It matched each Paris child's mask of happy son or daughter.

Make no mistake, Tom loved the woman dearly. She had filled his childhood with light and laughter and maternal affection, giving his memories a soft-focus sheen of feeling cherished. But he couldn't respect her. Not one single bit. And he was never free of the fear that he was truly his mother's son.

Miriam Paris was in love with her husband, Owen. And while she wasn't blinded by the emotion, she was weakened by it. The intelligent, dynamic woman of strong convictions disappeared when her husband walked in the door. She became a shadow, without will or even thought of her own. Not because she feared Owen, but because she loved him.

Over the course of Tom's life he had figured out that in Miriam's mind and heart, love translated to sublimation, submission, the denial of her very essence in the need to please her mate. She tolerated Owen's multitude of casual affairs with subordinates at the office. The brittle, back-stabbing jocularity of every Starfleet function she attended as a glittering trophy on her husband's arm. The strict dichotomy between the Admiral's public and private faces. It was this last discovery that had driven Tom to avoid all but the most shallow of romantic ties in his own life.

When Tom was very young, the Admiral Owen Paris was a looming, but fairly benevolent presence in his life. Owen was not the best of fathers, but balanced stern lectures on duty and legacy with games of catch and spur-of-the-moment shuttle rides. 

But when Owen Paris returned from his torture at Cardassian hands, he was a changed man. His personality behind closed doors had lost all of its leavening, becoming a flat and painful burden on those who called him kin.

Tom's father turned into a martinet, critical of anything and everything around him. Especially his children, who were never smart, strong, dutiful or respectful enough to earn the slightest praise. Owen’s attitudes and opinions had become harsh and abrasive to Tom's fragile adolescent ego.

And Miriam did nothing. Despite the verbal and emotional abuse, she never raised her voice or a finger to stop her husband’s diatribes. She even accepted her own tongue-lashings about the perfect Starfleet wife---and why she wasn't one. 

And by her own words to her confused and frightened children, she proved that she kept silent not out of fear, but love. Love allowed her to accept the harsh man Owen had become. Love held her at his side when anyone else would have walked away, or at least delivered an ultimatum that would have put him into counseling. Love allowed her to sit idly by while her own offspring struggled to retain the smallest amount of self-esteem. Love even enabled her to turn her back and deny her only son's very existence when the great Admiral Owen Paris declared him dead in the family's eyes.

Tom clenched the picture frame in a trembling hand as he breathed, deep and slow, forcing the emotions back into the locked drawer in his mind. Tom knew he shared many things with his mother: looks, build, coloring, talent, temperament. And he also suspected that he shared that innate vulnerability to love. It was all too easy to picture himself falling into the same slavish pattern of behavior. He was unable to trust himself, so he could never trust another. The penalty for being wrong was simply too high.

So he played with tiny emotions, struck matches of passion that were fairly self-contained and quickly extinguished. And if his ego was affected by them it was the merest twinge of a singed fingertip. He did not want the pain of a grand passion on his soul, which could leave scorched-earth scars on his heart and his hard-won self-reliance in ashes.

For all his footloose and fancy-free exterior Tom was a very careful man. He chose partners who could never force him to feel more than was comfortable. His lovers were as casual as himself, ready for a quick fuck or a short fling in the name of fun. Tom always had to be the one in charge, always ready to walk away without a glance back. He had to hold that position of strength with both hands, lest he lose his very soul to someone else's keeping.

Although most of his affairs were with women, Tom knew that at heart he was most attracted to men. So he had set very strict rules for himself for getting involved with one, however briefly. And part of those rules translated to always being on top, since that was the obvious position of superiority. When the time came for passion Tom Paris always took---he would never be taken because he refused to give.

This was the ultimate boundary in his own mind, a line that was never crossed. It kept his heart and soul safe. It also provided a measure of protection when the romance inevitably ended. 

He could honestly say that in *his* mind he and his partner had never really joined. Neither body nor soul. In this way he could prove that the relationship was never truly intimate. And no one could make demands on Tom because he'd never shared enough of himself to let anyone think he was theirs.

And so he'd lived his life in safe but shallow pleasure until this week. Chakotay had blazed across his emotional landscape, becoming overnight a teasing friend, a wonderfully responsive lover, a sensual creature who radiated desire and burned with an unparalleled fire of passion. 

Tom feared the power Chakotay could wrest from his own soul. The only thing that kept him returning to the holodeck was the knowledge that Chakotay had already agreed to Tom's conditions. And Chakotay was first and foremost an honorable man. 

That made him safe, at least for one week; someone who was willing to trust Tom completely but make no demands in return. /At least, until that strange conversation this morning./

Chakotay may not be expecting things from Tom, but he *was* starting to hold back the delights of his personality. Too easily that could translate into ending their affair before its time. And *that* Tom would not tolerate. He had been promised a week of glorious fucking, with no risk and no strings. Tom may refuse to let feelings enter the equation, but he was not about to be denied the luxuriant bounty that was his Titan, not when there were only a few days left.

Tom was determined to have all that Chakotay had offered so freely but now was attempting to withhold from their joining. All the warmth and wit and desire was Tom's due, his just reward for entering into this strange and unsettling agreement. He would break down the wall that withheld Chakotay’s full participation.

Blue eyes narrowed thoughtfully as Tom considered his strategy. He would continue in the same vein as yesterday, testing Chakotay's physical limits to demolish the emotional barrier his lover had thrown up upon waking. 

Even if Tom himself couldn't resist being seduced when he touched Chakotay, the pleasure fully compensated for the loss of control. And the toys would help to ensure his own emotions were safely in check. /Yes, that's the plan./ His smile was very feline as he checked the chronometer. 1930. "Computer, location of Commander Chakotay."

"Commander Chakotay is in Holodeck One,” was the quick response.

/Perfect. I'll show up more than a little early. Put him off-balance before he's ready for me./ Placing the photo back with a determined click, Tom left to surprise his Titan.

***************

Tom stopped short when he realized he was in the holographic courtyard. The sky displayed the deepening blue of twilight, and the air held a refreshing hint of coolness. 

The corner he was standing in had been transformed from the dining area of a few nights ago. Now it was a patch of grass, so soft in appearance he slipped off his shoes and sank his toes into the yielding comfort of the turf. A grouping of trees and flowers obstructed his view, so he edged around a waxy-leafed, sweet-blossomed bush to see if there were any other changes to the scene.

He paused as he caught a glimpse of Chakotay, seated on the edge of the fountain in the nearest corner. His profile was to Tom as he stared into the shadowed depths of the water. For long moments he simply watched his lover, absorbing Chakotay's and the evening's stillness. 

He was about to speak, to alert Chakotay to his presence, when he caught the flash of movement. And then his cunning plan disappeared in a puff of smoke.

Chakotay had shifted to put his back to the fountain as he lifted an object from his lap. He brought a delicate wooden flute to his lips, closed his eyes and after a beat of silence, began to play. For a moment Tom didn't hear the music as his eyes caressed the musician, square-tipped fingers moving on the six-holed woodwind, body seated straight but relaxed. Chakotay’s face reflecting his serenity as his focus turned inward, to the heart and soul and spirit of creation.

The sound was...natural, somewhere between the rush of wind and the liquid call of a bird. It had a hint of echo to it, a softness and mellowness that soothed the body and mind. Tom could only think of it as the tree spirit's lingering presence, rounding and deepening the notes as they flowed through its lovingly crafted legacy. It was beautiful. Tom closed his own eyes and let the music take him.

In his imagination a scene unfolded: a vast lake at dawn, the mist rising from nearly still waters. Trees hid the forest oasis from prying eyes, their roots drinking deep the life-giving liquid and branches stretching over the edge, shading the shallows. The pool was cradled in the laps of mountains covered in green, snow softening the rocks rising above the timberline. 

A heron glided above its own reflection, the daps of its snowy wingtips sending ripples expanding, circle upon circle as it crossed the lake. Even when the surface was still a faint current moved beneath. The wellspring of the water's source flowed in as the excess of the ever-rising fluid left its home to trickle and skip over stones on its way along a furrow carved through grass- and tree-lined banks, until it disappeared into the fog-shrouded landscape.

The flute brought Tom all these things in its haunting melody, becoming the chatter of the brook, the hush of the mist, the lift of wind beneath the bird's wings, the sibilant whisper of the trees as their leaves touched in communion with their neighbors. Echoed in his own soul was the wonder of nature spread out beneath the distant peaks, the mystery of earth and light and wind and water. They all wove their way into Tom's mind, carried on the woody notes of music.

And then the song ended. Tom blinked back to awareness to see Chakotay lower the pipe from his lips to stare at the slender length of wood. Bronze fingers stroked the holes and lightly played with a length of twine wrapped near the top of the instrument. It seemed to bind into place a small carving, unidentifiable at this distance. 

"That was beautiful," Tom said softly, stepping from his hiding place.

Chakotay looked up, the serenity of the evening in his quiet voice. "Thank you," was all he said. The dark eyes were enigmatic as they regarded the newcomer.

Tom approached to take a seat next to Chakotay on the fountain's rim. His fingers itched to feel the wooden flute. "May I?" he asked, indicating the instrument with one finger.

Chakotay silently handed over the piece. Tom ran his hands against the satiny surface of the pipe, fitting his fingertips over the holes, brushing his thumb along the length of wood. He could now see that the figurine was a resting wolf. The detail was exquisite; the thatching of fur and the wise eyes giving the totem life and personality. "This is impressive. Did you make it?"

"Yes," Chakotay said, trying to keep his gaze off the long pale digits. "I carved it on New Earth. It's not a tradition I'd ever bothered with as a child, but one of the trees on that planet reminded me so much of cedar...I had to try to craft a courting flute."

"You did a wonderful job, both carving and playing, Chak," Tom said, handing the instrument back with reluctance. "What was the name of that melody?"

Chakotay’s lips offered the hint of a smile. "It doesn't have a name. It wasn't even a piece of music, actually."

He ran a fingertip lightly over the wolf's back. "Although there are songs written for these flutes, I never took the time to learn them. For most people, playing this instrument is like meditation: the reflection of a mood, a moment. In this case, a memory."

Tom's voice was dreamy. "Of a forest lake..."

Chakotay’s eyes snapped to his. "Yes, a place on Dorvan I visited often. How did you know?"

"I'm not sure, Chak. I just closed my eyes and I was there." Tom paused, fumbled for something else to say. "So, this is the complement to the dancing, right?"

"Yes, the 'artistic talent to delight the Regent's spirit'." Chakotay abruptly stood and despite the tension evident in his body, reverently placed his flute on a soft cloth draped on a lounge nearby, wrapping it around the instrument and securing it with ties. He perched on one arm of the furniture with a sigh of indeterminate emotion.

"You weren't planning to show me this, were you?" Tom concluded from his companion's faint air of reserve.

"No," Chakotay said, shrugging. "I'm not sure why I even bothered practicing. There doesn't seem to be much point."

The hint of melancholy stirred Tom's alarm. "Why would you say that, Chak? Do you think you're going to lose tomorrow?"

"No." Chakotay stood with the emphatic puff of air. "I will *not* let that happen."

"Then what's the problem?" Tom gave a sidelong glance as Chakotay resettled next to him.

"Well, unless I plan to bleach myself head to toe, I've got my work cut out for me attracting the Regent. And Voyager will pay the price for my failure." Chakotay shook his head. "It's bad enough I've voluntarily become a prostitute. It seems rather ironic that I'm not even a good one." /And even more pathetic that I've fallen in love with my very first customer./

"What are you talking about?" Tom jumped up in shock. "You've been...amazing. Passionate, sexy, alive to the slightest touch. Not to mention incredibly beautiful." 

He took a few steps and whirled, arms outstretched. "You were made for pleasure."

Tom walked back to the other man's side. "Nedal is blind, Chakotay. All he sees is the flash," he indicated his own gold hair, then lightly cupped and tilted Chakotay’s jaw, "the fool completely misses the fire." He leaned down to claim the lush mouth.

Which abruptly moved out of range. Tom blinked at the flatness of the brown eyes as Chakotay leaned back and said quietly, "Lovely compliments, Tom, but actions speak louder than words."

Tom's hands dropped and his back stiffened defensively, "What do you mean?"

Chakotay wasn't angry, or even upset with Tom. After his reflections of this morning, and the depressing discovery in the Rutali book, he thought he'd managed to come to grips with the situation. But Sisryn's request had pricked at his conscience and confidence, assailing him with doubts about the clarity of his judgement. 

His resolve was weakened and he now struggled with the question of what was the right thing to do---for his own people as well as the Rutali.

Now compounding the unsettled swirling in his gut was Tom's lie. It hurt. Even if Tom was simply trying to boost Chakotay's flagging ego---even if Tom was sincere in the assessment---Tom's behavior suggested otherwise. 

The fact was that all the pretty words in the worlds couldn't erase the ache in Chakotay's soul. Of knowing that the man he loved could barely stand to look at him when they...had sex.

Chakotay couldn't even call it making love in his own mind anymore. It was just too painful. Maybe if he hadn't just finished playing the flute he might have been able to keep playing his role, accepting gratefully whatever Tom chose to give him. 

But thinking about Dorvan had stirred up thoughts of his parents. Of how much they'd loved one another, how the way they touched each other even in public conveyed those tender feelings. He wondered what *they* would think of his newfound profession. Not much, he guessed. 

Thoughts of their disappointment sparked his own sense of shame. The added burden to the weight of accepted but unpalatable truths was simply too much. He couldn't live with falsehoods from Tom, even if they were well-intentioned.

He rose and moved away, hoping distance would help him resist the siren’s lure. "I was looking at the Rutali tome this morning when something occurred to me," he said quietly. "You had been following the chapters exactly, step by step. Until yesterday."

Chakotay watched the color fade, then flush in Tom’s cheeks. /Well, now I know. It wasn't a coincidence./ "You completely skipped the sections on face-to-face positions. You jumped right to the toys. You were going to have another session with them tonight, weren't you?"

All Tom could do was nod, his eyes looking anywhere but at Chakotay.

Chakotay's expression softened and saddened as he offered his partner some reassurance. "That's OK, Tom. It's your call, I told you that from the beginning. Just don't lie to me about your...desires."

Tom stiffened. "But I didn't lie, I---"

"Please," Chakotay cut Tom off, exasperated. "I've already said it doesn't matter. So you don't want to look at me when we 'do the deed'. So what? Maybe you need to imagine somebody else to see you through the experience."

Chakotay shrugged. "You've probably done me a favor. It's a good point to bring up with Nedal. What's the expression, 'All cats are gray in the dark'?"

Tom sagged, his head falling forward into his hands. /Fuck./ His own insecurities had hurt Chakotay yet again. This time he'd wounded Chakotay's pride, and probably self-esteem as well. He couldn't believe how wrongly Chakotay had interpreted the situation.

Although, based on the information available, it was the only explanation that made sense. Tom closed his eyes, trying to make a decision.

/Option One: I walk indignantly out of here and leave Chakotay to fend for himself. Option Two: I take the man at his word, call up some toys and ream his gorgeous ass until he forgets his name, much less this little chat. Option Three: I lie. Option Four: I tell him the truth. Or some of it, at least./ Tom looked up at his lover, noting the soft dark gaze and still form. Chakotay was simply waiting. 

Now at least Tom knew what had suffocated the burning passion in the liquid eyes. But he was still determined to spark it again. He took a deep breath and straightened.

"You're right," Tom began quietly, and caught the briefest flash of...grief?...in Chakotay’s eyes. "And wrong." He stood and walked back and forth in front of the fountain, feeling the coolness of tile against his bare soles.

"I *did* deliberately skip some chapters in the Rutali book." Tom turned and met Chakotay's gaze, trying to communicate his sincerity and regret. "But not for the reason you think. Shit, Chak, I'm sorry. Again. I never thought about how you would feel if you found out. I was just figuring you wouldn't notice."

He stepped in front of Chakotay. His hand reached out, hovering a moment trying to choose a destination, then finally rested on one broad shoulder. "I've been avoiding looking at you each time we truly came together, Chakotay. Not because I want someone else, but because I want you. Too much." 

He squeezed the muscle under his fingers, feeling a faint heat radiating through the cloth. "It's so intense. We just look at each other and I'm on fire. I fall into your eyes and start to forget that it's just a game. And I can't handle it."

Tom swallowed and offered a little more. "This...our time together...it can't *mean* anything to me, Chakotay. This is supposed to be a simple week-long fling. No strings. Emotions will just make things messy and awkward and I'll end it before I let that happen. I have to be able to walk away and not look back. I have to go back to my own life. The only way I can live it." 

He dropped his hand and eyes. "But I never meant to make you feel like you were nothing more than a body to bang. You couldn't be."

Tom started to step away when his wrist was caught, cradled in a gentle grip as Chakotay brought the hand up to his lips and brushed a faint kiss across the back. "I understand," was all he said, but the warmth and openness had returned to the dark eyes.

Chakotay accepted Tom's explanation, and empathized with Tom's desire to avoid any pain at their separation. He was already hurting and they were still together, and wouldn't wish that ache on anyone. Particularly someone he loved. He smiled softly and lowered their hands, retaining the clasp. 

"Thank you," he said, "for not bolting the second this conversation started. And for helping me to see your point of view. I know how much it cost you to tell me these things."

Tom gave an answering smile and decided that thoughts, feelings, and everything else needed to be jettisoned for the rest of the night. "So where do we go from here?"

Chakotay lifted his brows and silently agreed to change the subject. He was glad to set his own sorrows and worries aside. "That's up to you, Professor. What's on the agenda for the evening?"

Tom used their joined hands to yank Chakotay into his arms. He made his decision, his eyes slitted into a leer. "Sex." 

He slid his hands down the wide back to the curves of Chakotay’s ass, drawing them closer together. "You need a well-rounded education for this well-rounded ass." 

He squeezed. "We skipped a few chapters of your book, I believe. It's time to rectify that omission."

Chakotay leaned back to search the smoky gaze. "You don't have to do that, Tom." But his spirits lifted at this sign that his siren cared about him, at least a little.

"I know. But damn, I want to." Then Tom finally claimed the full rosy lips with a thrill of victory. As the kiss deepened and heated he gave a blissful sigh. /I told you, my Titan, I'd have you back again./

The two men simply stood and kissed, tongues chasing each other in lusty abandon. Chakotay's arms wound around the slender waist, stroking up and down Tom's ribs in rhythm with his sucks at the pink lips. He captured Tom's tongue, holding it delicately between his teeth as he played with the tip, flicking it with his own.

Tom started laughing and pulled back, immediately freed by his pearly white captors. He pinched the muscular cheek he'd retained his hold on. "That tickles, you rascal."

"I've got to keep my teacher on his toes." Dimples flashed. "Should we adjourn to the bedroom?"

"No...I think we've got the perfect mattress right here." Tom led them to the large patch of grass and swiped his toes across it once more. "Yep, this'll do just fine."

Chakotay shook his head and chuckled. "And they call *me* Nature Boy."

"As well they should. You go for the real thing. I like my campouts to be holographic." Tom grinned. "No poison ivy, no bugs, no sunburn." 

He sobered and searched Chakotay’s face. "Are you all right with this?"

"Sure." Chakotay pulled free and crouched, running a palm over the soft but springy turf. It tickled his palms. "At least with this I won't get rug burns." 

He chuckled at Tom's slack jaw as he cautiously lay down on his back and put his hands behind his head. "Ready when you are."

Tom blinked and closed his mouth as he recovered from the shock of Chakotay's matter-of-fact statement. He suddenly wondered where and when his partner had acquired said rug burns. And with whom. 

Then he looked at the black-haired banquet laid out before him and figured it wasn't worth the time to inquire. "That's your holographic beige sack, isn't it?" he asked as he reviewed the loose outfit hiding the bronzed dream of a body from his eyes.

"Yep. So now it's my turn for a fashion show. A striptease to be precise." Chakotay made a show of getting comfortable. And surprisingly, he was. The questions and concerns, in both his professional and personal life, could wait until tomorrow.

Now he was about to make love---and yes, he could call it that again---with the man he loved. And actually get to see Tom plunging deep, gifting Chakotay with his essence. /Who would have ever thought that was something I'd look forward to?/ Love certainly changed one's perspective. On many things.

Tom moved next to a chair and began to slowly disrobe, very aware of the burning gaze lingering on each inch of skin as it was revealed. He felt his own body flush in response and anticipation. He was taking a risk, he knew. He truly feared getting lost in those dark eyes, of being branded forever by the passion that blazed in them. 

But this was also a memory he *had* to have, the sight of Chakotay’s face seized in the moment of orgasm, knowing he had driven Chakotay over the edge to completion.

Chakotay could feel his pulse rate increase as more and more gold-sprinkled flesh appeared for his visual delectation. All four slender limbs were bare, as well as Tom's lean pale torso. Only the boxers tented with Tom's erection remained. 

Then a fierce blue gaze pinned him in place, demanding his unwavering attention as slender hands pushed down remaining garment. He watched Tom's pupils dilate, shoving the blue to a thin rim around twin abysses. 

Chakotay blinked and remembered to breathe. Then the gilded ivory sculpture approached with stalking slowness, Tom's long cock pointing the way to his target. Chakotay swallowed.

Tom felt himself drawn to the fire in Chakotay’s eyes. His Titan was quiet, all teasing gone, as he watched Tom approach. Tom knelt beside the still-clad body a moment, drawing the bronzed hands down and positioning the dark head. His voice was soft as he instructed, "Part your legs a bit, Chak. I'm going to lie between them."

Chakotay silently complied, then Tom arranged the beige-draped limbs to his satisfaction, spreading them further. He called for the lube, picked it up and settled on top of Chakotay, enjoying the brush of cloth against his naked flesh and the heat rising from the body below. 

He dropped the tube to one side and shifted, fitting himself into the curves of Chakotay's torso, resting his hands on broad shoulders. He leaned further up, his mouth hovering an inch above the fullness of Chakotay’s, his breath teasing. "Computer, delete holographic garments," he said, and descended.

Chakotay had already parted his lips in invitation, trying to catch Tom's exhalations. He closed his eyes and opened his mouth wider, accepting the silky invader as fervently as if they had kissed days ago, not minutes. He felt the grass pricking his back as Tom's weight pressed him deeper into the turf. 

He moved his hands carefully, threading his fingers through the fair curls, tracing the line of neck, spanning his hands across the long back. He stayed above the waistline, not wanting Tom's instinctive unease to mar this coupling. The tongue beating time against his own suddenly withdrew and he opened his eyes.

Tom paused a moment to look at the man set against the backdrop of greenery. "Oh yes, I must have this," he said, his voice a throaty growl as he descended on the bronzed throat. He breathed in sandalwood and citrus, mixed with the scent of the grass. He licked and sucked his way up and down the column, his tongue swiping below the circlet and body-warmed crystal. 

He paused to moan as Chakotay's pelvis bucked up into his own in reaction, brushing their groins together. He moved down to explore the muscles of Chakotay’s chest, nibbling on the dusky nipples.

Chakotay groaned and lifted his upper body into the subtle tugs and soft bites, his head shifting from side to side as Tom teased his skin. His hands clenched on Tom's sides a moment, then drifted forward to play with the hair on the pale belly, his fingertips just brushing the top of his lover's groin.

Tom's hips shot forward of their own accord, trying to force the warm hands on his flesh lower, to the full and aching cock that would soon be impossible to ignore. His exhalations were guttural grunts of pleasure as the obliging fingers wandered down to lightly tug at the crisp curls surrounding his shaft. They mapped his groin, running up and down his straining length, learning the weight of his balls.

The sensations spiked his desire, and his own hands moved to stroke the soft, soft skin of Chakotay's torso. He rubbed one fingertip along each pebbled nipple, keeping the tiny points erect for his tongue to torment. Then he kissed along the shadows formed by the taut pectorals, tracing between and underneath each section of the powerful chest. 

Tom’s hands shifted down, to run teasingly along Chakotay’s abdomen. He flicked his fingernails across the taut muscles, then walked across the satiny belly, fitting a fingertip into the indentation at the center. He felt the warm hands leave his groin to settle around his hips as he lifted himself up to seek his lover's gaze.

Chakotay was catching his breath, feeling his groin ever so slightly brush Tom's as his diaphragm expanded on each inhalation. He didn't break the connection of their gazes, hoping that his trust and passion and aching need were clear to see. 

He gave a soft moan when Tom's hands stroked along his hips, the thumbs stretching to tease his sac.

The powerful form beneath Tom was magnificent, all burnished curves topped with flushed cheeks and burning dark eyes. His desire surged again. He could barely wait to plunge into the satin channel that awaited him. "Draw your legs up a little, Chak, I need to prepare you." His hand trembled slightly as he grabbed and opened the tube of lubricant, slicking the gel across his fingers.

Chakotay opened his legs, offering himself to the man whose siren call had captured not only his heart, but his senses. He watched Tom’s glistening fingers disappear behind his own straining erection, and felt one finger breach his portal. He relaxed, trusting Tom.

Tom felt the body under his hands soften and some of his own tension eased. This time he didn't feel the need to ask if Chakotay trusted him; he could see it in Chakotay’s eyes and feel it in Chakotay’s body. 

He drank in the vision of his powerful Titan moaning softly under his hands. He carefully stretched the opening to the heated passage, burrowing deeper, seeking the sweet spot that would drive his lover wild.

The white-hot urgency had abated somewhat for Chakotay, who was basking in the warmth of Tom's regard and the slide of the long fingers making their preparations. His eyes were half-closed and riveted to the handsome face, watching the brows furrow and the gaze unfocus in concentration. Then a lightning bolt---still surprising---jolted his own body into action as his hips jerked, seeking to be further impaled on the teasing invaders.

Tom's victorious grin was short-lived as Chakotay started those long, low moans that stoked his own desire. His body started shaking with the need to thrust, to plunge into Chakotay’s depths. He quickly pulled out his hand and lifted strong legs over his shoulders. "Look at me, Chak."

Chakotay opened his eyes fully and met Tom’s gaze, hoping that Tom couldn't read too much in his own face. He felt the head of Tom's cock nuzzle between his cheeks, seeking entrance. His breath caught as the solid length slid ever so slowly into him, easing its way through and past the natural resistance. Another moan made its way out of Chakotay’s throat as he tried to relax into the smooth gliding thrust.

Tom's control was shaky at best, tested even further when his partner's body opened up to welcome his cock. He held still at the apex of his forward movement, buried in his Titan. He stroked the silky shins draped along his shoulders and chest, then smoothed over the length of the muscular thighs resting against his ribs. 

His hands moved down to cup the full buttocks and sleek hips, lifting Chakotay's body a little more. His cock pressed deeper, stopping only when the hairs on his groin brushed Chakotay's cleft.

Chakotay's nerves were stretched taut as he waited for Tom to move. Their eyes were still locked together, and he could sense the beat of his lover's pulse through the place of their joining. They seemed to breathe as one, both making small desperate noises. Then, finally, Tom began drawing back.

With a moment of concentration, Chakotay tightened his inner muscles a little, gripping, then relaxing as Tom moved forward again. They kept up the unseen choreography for a handful of agonizingly slow strokes. Until Tom growled and plunged.

The loss of restraint brought a surge of adrenaline through Tom's veins. He began ramming hard and deep, his hands clenching around his lover's hips to keep Chakotay in place. It was almost a fugue state. Nothing existed except the blood-hot walls that caressed his cock, the beauty of the body he thrust into, and the deep brown eyes holding his, scorching him with their passion, warming him with their trust. There was only this moment and the reality of their flesh slamming together.

Chakotay groaned, burning with the heat of fullness, and need. His upper body writhed under the relentless pounding, each stroke bringing pleasure and building pressure. His lower half imprisoned in a fierce grip, he couldn't lift himself higher into Tom's thrusts. He wanted more, even as he felt the slap of Tom’s balls against his ass. His hands tore at the turf, then lifted to enclose Tom's buttocks. He squeezed as Tom withdrew almost completely, and pulled with every forward lunge, urging Tom on.

Tom was too far gone to worry about the strong fingers burning prints onto his backside. He was at the top of a very high climb, and the dive off the peak was all he lived for. One hand shifted to the small of Chakotay's back, while the other enclosed the dark cock bobbing with every movement. He felt the precum slicking the steel-silk flesh as he pumped furiously. 

His eyes were glued to Chakotay's face, desperate to see the moment of climax. He prayed it would be soon.

The feel of strong fingers wrapped around Chakotay’s cock collided with the messages sent from the nerves deep in his body, where Tom's cock beat against his prostate with every stroke. The sensations burned along his spine, driving toward his brain to burst into a wildfire, raging out of control. His hands loosed their hold on Tom as his body arched into a taut curve, leaving the grass to surge into the air. A deep-throated roar sounded from his throat even as the white-hot fluid of his release spurted, fanning upward to coat Tom's hand and leave flecks of glistening semen on both of their bodies.

Tom felt Chakotay's body heave, driving against him in climax. He stared with wild eyes at the beauty stretched out before him, entranced by the regal face transformed in pleasure. Then the world became velvet black streaked with stars as Tom's eyes fluttered closed. He surrendered to his own need, pushing again and again into the silken heat surrounding him. His throat opened in a shout of ecstasy as his seed emptied from his balls, shooting through his cock and into Chakotay's passage.

Tom slumped a little and kissed each silken leg before he moved them off of his shoulders. He carefully lowered them, but was caught unprepared when Chakotay snapped into action. Chakotay’s suddenly jerked his legs out of Tom’s hold and clenched around Tom’s torso. 

The next thing Tom knew his back was on the grass and he was staring into Chakotay's grinning face.

His body froze for a moment as he realized that Chakotay was straddling him, but relaxed when he became aware that Chakotay had somehow kept Tom's softening cock from slipping out. "What the fuck---" he stuttered.

"Don't get your syllabus in a twist, Professor, I just wanted a change of scenery." Chakotay gave a dramatic sigh. "And what a lovely view." His eyes mapped the contours of Tom's face and body.

Tom rolled his eyes. "You do realize that topping from the bottom does *not* need to be taken literally, don't you?" He brought his own knees up, making his thighs a backrest for his partner.

Chakotay gratefully settled against the textured support, careful not to lose their connection. "It's not?" His look of innocent confusion was spoiled when both of them started chuckling.

Chakotay shook his head a moment and gave Tom a small smile. "Thank you. I wouldn't have missed this for the world. You've certainly convinced me that you're not imagining someone else."

/If only you knew, my Titan. All I can do is hope that when we've ended this I don't start seeing *you* when someone else is in my bed./ Tom drifted into similar morbid thoughts until warm fingers lifted his chin. 

Chakotay's expression had shifted into concern. "Are you all right, Tom?"

Tom shook off the temporary melancholy and grinned. "Oh, I'm doing just fine. Especially if this," he indicated Chakotay's position, "means we're going to have another round and *you'll* be doing all the work this time."

"Not all of it, surely." Chakotay lifted his hands skyward and stretched, but stopped at the apex and blinked surprise at Tom when he felt a twitch inside him. "Already?"

Tom felt himself blushing in embarrassment and shrugged. "What can I say, the view's pretty good down here, as well."

Chakotay bowed slightly in acknowledgement. He lowered his arms and lightly began running his fingers through the curls on Tom’s chest. "I figure you'll wear me out. I need a good night's sleep." He sobered abruptly and dropped his eyes.

Tom frowned and shifted under the distracting hands. "Are you worried about tomorrow, Chak?"

Chakotay frowned slightly, debating his answer. He really was conflicted about the combat after listening to Sisryn. He knew he had to protect Tom, but what if the Chief Consul was right and defeating Nedal caused a civil war? Could he live with that on his conscience? /It's funny how nobody, including me, seems to doubt I at least have a shot at taking the Regent down. I guess those months battling hand-to-hand with Cardassians pretty much trained me to fight bigger, stronger---and meaner---opponents./

Unfortunately, he didn't feel he could share any of his concerns with Tom. Knowing the younger man's noble spirit, he had no doubts Tom would insist on sacrificing himself to Voyager's cause. And while giving Nedal what and who he wanted would no doubt take them farther through the wormhole, Chakotay couldn't bring himself to put his love into such cruel claws. Especially since he sensed that the Regent expected certain duties that were not in Tom's repertoire. True to his nature Tom would rebel, and likely be destroyed for it.

Blue eyes narrowed as Tom noticed the emotions crossing the handsome face above him. He knew that Chakotay had reached a decision when his features smoothed out and the serenity returned to the dark gaze.

"Yes, Tom, I am. I'm going up against a pretty impressive opponent and...there are a lot of repercussions that I wasn't aware of before." He looked down at his own hands lying against the pale skin. "I don't really want anyone to get hurt," he finished softly.

Tom sighed and laid his own hands on top of Chakotay's. "You know somebody always gets hurt when people play power games, Chak." He tightened his grip a little and caught the uncertain eyes. "Just make sure it's not you."

Chakotay snorted and freed his hands, gripping Tom’s wrists and bringing them to rest on each side of the blond head. "That *is* the general idea." He kissed the tip of the aristocratic nose. "Thanks for the reminder." He was only half-joking.

"Anytime," Tom said, acknowledging the end of their chat by grabbing his companion's tempting lower lip between his teeth. He nibbled his prize, working from one end to the other, then released it to begin a sizzling, open-mouthed kiss.

Chakotay released Tom's wrists to place his hands on cheeks flushing with renewed desire. He accepted the warm invader in his own mouth, stroking his tongue against it in encouragement. His fingers played with Tom's neatly set ears, ran along the working jaw and down the slim throat. He felt another twitch from Tom's cock.

Tom lifted his arms to encircle the strong neck, feeling the brush of the Rutali crystal against his own chest as Chakotay leaned farther forward. He began carding the silky black hair and tickling the sensitive nape. Then he felt Chakotay’s fingers drift back to his chest and moaned into their kiss, his hips lifting involuntarily as his nipples were teased.

Chakotay ran his hands over Tom’s torso, enjoying the tickling against his palms, which matched the golden filaments rubbing against his scrotum and buttocks. He shifted a little as Tom’s cock made itself known once more, filling and stiffening.

Tom’s hands glided down Chakotay’s back, nerves tingling as they made contact with the soft skin. They languidly slid around to the solid chest and belly, tickling the navel. Tom shifted his hips again and moved his fingers to that tantalizing ass, exploring the rounded muscles and tracing a finger around the place where their bodies connected. This earned him a lungful of hot breath as Chakotay rumbled his approval into their joined mouths.

Chakotay reluctantly broke the kiss. "I think I'd better not be distracted while I figure out how this works." He blushed and smiled down into passion-hazed blue eyes, feeling a rush of tenderness and love fill his chest. 

He clamped his jaw shut for a moment, holding back dangerous words that had no place in a casual affair. /I love you. I love you,/ his mind chanted with every heartbeat. He ran his hand down the side of Tom's face and leaned up. He shifted on his knees, preparing to move.

Tom looked at eyes as ageless and wise as the earth they echoed, but burning with an intensity that stole his breath. *He* was the focus of all that fire, the magnificence that was Chakotay. He would never regret this moment, as the warmth of affection rushed to join the heat of desire pooling in his groin. "Give me your hands, Chak," he said quietly, lifting his own.

Chakotay laid his palms over Tom's, quirking his lips as he remembered measuring their fingers in the pool. He accepted the support of Tom’s arms as he rose up. He felt Tom's length sliding from him, still slick with cum and lube. Before it slipped free, he descended slowly. 

Tom groaned, eyelids fluttering. "Shit, Chak," came the throaty comment.

Chakotay almost grinned as he rose up again, this time coming down a little faster. He added a wriggle on the way. Tom groaned and jerked his hips up, wringing a gasp from Chakotay as his prostate was hit.

The two men's fingers intertwined and their eyes met as they continued to move, Tom rising up to meet Chakotay's descent. Their tempo was slow, savoring the smooth glide of their joining.

Tom felt as though his senses were preternaturally alert. He felt every blade of grass beneath his back, the coolness of the air against his flushed skin. The energy flowing between them, the satin skin brushing against his sides and thighs and pelvis as Chakotay ascended and returned. The pulse of the channel sheathing him, the muscles stretching for his arrival. The aroma of their arousal and earlier release blending with the sweet-spice scent of the man riding him. And most of all, the heat. Of the body surrounding him. Of his own desire. Of the burning eyes of his Titan, Prometheus alight with divine fire. A gift he freely shared with the mortal helpless beneath him. Tom groaned again but couldn't wrench his eyes from the vision.

Chakotay felt as though he was absorbing a part of his lover with every movement. And a part of his own soul was traveling across the bridge formed by their locked eyes, drawn into his golden siren to sink beneath the surface of sapphire seas. 

Gazes riveted, they moved together, faster now as the primal demands for completion rose in an undeniable spiral. They each released one hand, Chakotay to caress Tom’s chest, Tom to rub along the length of Chakotay’s bent leg. He began at the ankle, keeping time with the flexing knee, cupping the burnished thigh. He shifted inward, running the tip of his finger against the head of the dark cock offered to him.

Chakotay moaned as he felt the brush of Tom's hand against his throbbing sex. The internal push against his gland was an exquisite pleasure that also urged him toward the explosion of climax. He made more deep sounds of approval as additional fingers arrived to tease his straining shaft and scrape lightly at the crown bathed in precum. 

He had to resist an urge to thrust forward, keeping to his up-and-down motion but losing a little of his control, twisting his hips more strongly on the descent.

Tom thrust up desperately, feeling his ass leave the ground as he braced his feet against the turf for more leverage. He *had* to come, before his whole body burst into flame from the build-up of need. He felt a choked cry wrenched from his belly as the body riding him got more wild in its movements. He stopped playing with Chakotay's cock and gripped it with determination, squeezing and pumping.

The friction finally pushed Chakotay over the edge. Never losing eye contact with his siren, his mouth dropped open in a groan of pleasure and relief as his climax hit. It squeezed through his body, forcing air out of his lungs and cum from his cock. His muscles tightened around Tom’s cock in a full-body clench of fulfillment.

Tom groaned at the tightness gripping his cock. He grabbed Chakotay's hip with his free hand, feeling his face tighten with a primal urge as he thrust fiercely upward and pulled Chakotay's body onto himself. He was pure instinct, driven by eons-old compulsions to bury himself as deeply as he could in his partner. He growled, loud and long, and finally sank back to the grass, sweaty, replete, and depleted.

Just in time to catch a rather substantial armful of similarly sated and drained Chakotay. They finally ended their mutual stare as Chakotay toppled forward. Tom's right nipple hardened instantly as heated pants washed over it. He groaned, this time in frustration. "Shift a little, Chak. There's no way I've got a round three in me."

Chakotay’s sweat-beaded forehead rubbed against Tom’s collarbone as Chakotay nodded. Then Chakotay slid his hips up, feeling Tom's spent sex separate with a trickle of semen and lube. He then very carefully rolled off his lover to lay on his back in the grass. He felt his pulse and breathing slow, and a strange ache of emptiness in his body.

"I don't suppose there's any chance of you carrying me over to the pool?" Tom's voice rose hopefully as he found the strength to turn his head to regard his companion.

Chakotay chuckled. "I can't even drag myself there." He met the questioning blue eyes with rueful smile. "I must say, Professor, your make-up classes are even more strenuous than your scheduled ones."

"Mmmm...and not just on the student." Tom stretched, languidly, and yawned. "I certainly hope you're ready to sleep, 'cause there's no way I'm moving from this spot until tomorrow."

"Yes, mission accomplished. You wore me out---heck, I'll be lucky I'm awake by noon tomorrow." Chakotay blinked his vision clear again as his eyelids continued to droop.

Tom stirred with concern. "You're kidding, right? You can't face Nedal at less than your best."

"Yes, it was just a joke. I'll be fine. We're both off for the next few days, so you don't even have to worry about getting up early." Chakotay summoned up a towel and made a desultory attempt to clean up. He flopped a matching one on Tom's stomach, but it was ignored. 

Chakotay shrugged and called up the bedroom, orienting it so they ended up on the mattress.

"It's too bad we can't just be *in* the bed when it appears." Tom dragged himself slug-like across the cover and underneath it.

Chakotay settled in, and down to sleep. A sudden thought snapped his eyes open for a moment. "Tom, I'm going to have a few meetings in the morning. So I might not be here when you wake."

Tom shifted in small increments, snuggling his way into arms that immediately opened to receive him. "'S’OK. Just be here as I go to sleep." A soft snore soon followed.

Chakotay stared at the sleeping siren on his chest, and brushed a quick smiling kiss across the slack pink lips. He closed his eyes. /Tom my love, there isn't anywhere else I'd rather be./

************************************************************

Nedal glided through the secret passageway, his ears tuned to any noises announcing potential witnesses. While it was unlikely any of the few other passengers with access were roaming the hidden corridors in the dead of night, he was taking no chances. With stealthy tread he made his way to the room reserved for tomorrow's bout.

He'd accomplished the day's duties in a daze, arranging a combat to settle a territorial dispute between two prides and confirming plans to put to use some of the money currently pouring into the royal coffers. He also outlined the Rutali position on trade and defense issues, the starting points for a summit with a neighboring species set to begin in several months. 

But whatever task occupied Nedal’s mind, a small part was set aside to mull over the upcoming confrontation with the Larat. He'd decided to adjust the odds in his favor some time in the afternoon, but was forced to wait until now to implement his plan.

The Rutali Regent darted inside ceremonial chamber, and shut the hidden panel with the quietest of clicks. Torches provided the only light, islands of flickering brightness in the large shadowed room. He crossed to a box sitting on a table against one wall, and edged into its torch's radius of illumination. He knew he was alone but couldn't shake the dread of being discovered at his work.

Nedal flipped open the lid, revealing a pair of brown gloves thickly tipped with padding. He lifted one and slipped it over his hand, flexing it in the dimness. He tried to unsheathe his claws, but was blocked by the thick guards in the glove's fingertips.

He removed the offending accessory and regarded it with narrowed eyes. /So, Sisryn believes she has leveled the playing field./ He snorted as he pulled a slender, pointed tool from the pocket of his robe. /Only someone as naive as my Chief Consul would leave these things unattended. As if any Rutali would allow himself to be de-clawed in battle./

The Regent pushed the sharp probe into the thumb of the glove, twisting it delicately. He maneuvered the tool carefully, pushing the padding away from the center of the leather covering the tip. When the outline of the metal could be clearly seen, he retracted it and sent it into the next finger.

He figured his claws would eventually pierce the remaining barrier during the fight. It just had to be timed perfectly so the failure of Sisryn's guards looked like an accident.

Nedal smiled as he finished one glove and began the other. He would teach that arrogant human not to cross the Rutali Regent, and gain a Larat of his own choosing in the bargain.

Eventually his task was completed and he laid the gloves to rest, closing the box with a satisfied sigh. He knew that no one else would be examining them before tomorrow's bout. The Chief Consul would no doubt have been fluttering around, but Nedal had arranged for her to be liaison to the members of Voyager's crew scheduled to attend the match.

Nedal sent one last glance around the room before he slipped back into the secret passageway. Time to return to his rooms and dream of victory.

As the hidden panel snicked shut once again, a slight figure stirred, emerging from a shadowed corner. The watcher walked over to the table and laid a delicate hand on the box. She stayed there a moment, pondering, then turned and exited, leaving the room once more in silence broken only by the soft crackling of the flames.


	12. Chapter 12

/He is hopeless. Absolutely hopeless./ Kathryn Janeway breathed deeply the aroma of her steaming coffee, the first of the day. She leaned back on her Ready Room sofa and regarded the man tucked into the opposite corner. "So what brings you to my office this early on a day off, Chakotay?" 

Her eyes narrowed, watching her caftan-clad First Officer sip his tea. "Shouldn't you be preparing for your bout?" Kathryn could see concern in the dark brown eyes, sparking the same emotion in her own. The two looked like mismatched bookends; each one had a folded knee on the cushions.

"Sisryn told me something yesterday that worries me. It even has the potential to explode into a Prime Directive violation." Chakotay stared into his cup of chamomile and mint. The normally soothing blend wasn't working this morning. He sighed. "According to the Rutali Chief Consul, if Nedal loses this combat there's a chance it will spark a civil war."

"But this is a non-lethal bout." Kathryn sat up in denial. "Sisryn reassured us that this was *not* all that serious."

"Physically, yes,” Chakotay agreed. “But in terms of appearances...the Rutali may not consider me a worthy opponent. If the Regent is defeated by a 'mere human', it may weaken his position among his people. That could lead to a formal challenge to his rule."

"Voyager gets swept into the conflict. And you end up caught in the middle of it---literally." Kathryn ran a hand through her hair, then returned to cradle the mug, actively seeking the comfort of its warmth. "Just what we needed. More complications."

"Yes." Chakotay sighed and set down his cup. His expression turned grim. "Actually, I'm surprised I had to tell you. I sent a brief note to Tuvok last night, outlining the situation and asking for his tactical assessment." 

Brown eyes flicked to the blue-gray of his listener's. "I rejected his proposed course of action the second I read it. I figured the moment he determined my response was confirmation of...a lack of objectivity, Tuvok would be updating you. I guess despite the logic, our Vulcan Chief of Security was as appalled by his idea as I was." 

Chakotay shook his head. "Even if not for the same reasons."

Kathryn relinquished her mug and turned back, her hands accentuating her flatly delivered statements. "Let me fill in the blanks in *your* report, Commander. Tuvok considered our objective, which is to get as far as possible through the wormhole. He factored in the obvious indications that the Regent dislikes you and clearly prefers Lieutenant Paris; the negative impact of your defeating Nedal; the likely benefits of transferring that pretty piece of jewelry to our fair-haired lad's neck. And deduced that the logical thing to do is to have you throw the fight."

"Yes." Chakotay's voice snapped out in a growl. He immediately recovered his composure, but his dark eyes still glittered dangerously. "Make no mistake, Kathryn, I am not a disinterested party here. I'll help however I can to minimize the fallout from the Regent's defeat, but I will *not* allow Nedal to have Tom. Not while I am breathing."

"So it's like that, is it?" Kathryn's eyes took on a hard, flinty glint. 

Chakotay’s jaw set. "Yes. If you order me to do otherwise, you'll have to wait to court-martial me until after we get through the wormhole." 

In a flash Kathryn relaxed and graced her friend with a sly smile. "I thought you would say that." She picked up her coffee again. "Tuvok *did* send a report, including your reply. I think he was relieved to assume I'd support your decision."

She gave her companion an exasperated look. "Of course I'm not going to force you to put Tom in danger, regardless of your feelings towards him. So...how long *have* you been in love with our Chief Pilot?"

Chakotay sagged, relieved. He didn't think it was likely, but there had been a small chance the Captain would agree with Tuvok. Of course, the second he relaxed his control he started blushing. /Spirits, you'd think I'd be over this by now./ "I'm not sure, exactly. I've been trying to ignore any...emotional entanglements. I only admitted it to myself yesterday."

He looked over with a grateful smile. "Thank you, by the way, for not prying. From the looks you've been giving Tom and me on the bridge, you must have gone to Sickbay at least twice in the last few days. To get your tongue repaired from biting it so hard." That earned him a laugh.

"You don't know the half of it. It's been driving me crazy, knowing the two of you were locked in together every night." Kathryn shrugged. "But I figured it was better not to stir up any salacious rumors since the ones we had were innocent enough. And you'd already given up your privacy by contacting Ken." 

Her eyes softened as she whispered, "You'll never know how much that meant to me."

Chakotay reached over and laid a hand on her knee. "You're welcome. I'm glad he could help."

"Yes he did. Ken exceeded all of my expectations." She grew misty-eyed for a moment. "And all of my hopes." 

Kathryn laid a delicate hand on top of the larger, darker one and squeezed gently. "I'm guessing that it's not the same for you?" 

"No, Kathryn, it's not." Chakotay sighed. "I was pretty shocked to find myself in love with a man, especially because I *knew* nothing could come of it. But who can resist the siren's call?"

"Is it so hopeless, Chakotay?" Kathryn’s eyes were soft now with concern. "Doesn't Tom feel anything for you?"

The dark head shook in denial. "No, he told me plainly to my face last night that our...affair...couldn't mean anything to him. He didn't *want* it to." 

Chakotay's smile was sad but accepting. "We won't even be a nine days' wonder."

His thumb lifted to brush Kathryn's hand in reassurance. The twinkling of his eyes took the sting out of his words. "I'll be all right. I'm certainly no stranger to unrequited passions." 

He shifted back, gently breaking their connection. "Don't worry, this...problem...of mine won't disrupt anything on board. Tom and I have already agreed to forget this ever happened when I get back from Ruta."

"I'm not worried about the ship, Chakotay. I'm worried about my friend." Kathryn's head tilted thoughtfully. "You should tell Tom how you feel."

Chakotay snorted. "Why? So we can be awkward and uncomfortable with each other for the next few days? Besides, I still need his help. And Tom made it pretty clear he'd bolt at the first sign things were getting serious."

He stood and restlessly moved around the landing. "What exactly are you suggesting I do, Kathryn? Tell him I love him and then merrily go off to another man's bed? One that I'm being *paid* to inhabit? As bad as Tom's reputation has been, he was never a whore." 

Chakotay sank back down and lifted his hands in a gesture of futility. "How can anyone be expected to just write off such a fundamental betrayal?"

Kathryn shook her head slowly as she remembered Ken's words. "People can surprise you, Chakotay, and love grants you the ability to forgive many things."

"Maybe. But Tom *doesn't* love me. So there's no point in spoiling the little time I have left with him." Chakotay waved a hand to dismiss all of his impossible dreams. Right now he needed focus and clarity, not the ambiguity of false hopes.

"I know you won't say anything to him," he paused until he received a defeated nod of agreement, "and I don't really want to discuss this anymore. Please."

"All right," Kathryn sighed and became the Captain once more, putting aside the ache she felt for her dear friend's pain and her annoyance at his stubbornness. "Back to business. How do we keep that damn cat on his throne?"

Chakotay signaled his appreciation of her tact with a quick flash of gratitude, then briskly replied, "The only thing I can think of is to make the victory seem like beginner's luck. That it's so impossible that *I* could defeat someone like the Regent that it has to be a fluke. The Chief Consul mentioned that such things have happened in the quest to become Regent."

Kathryn’s eyes narrowed as her agile, Starfleet-trained mind mused over the possibilities. "That could work, especially with a knockout. You could make a few clumsy swings, then bump him into a bulkhead or something." 

She tilted her head. "Of course, we can't have your cheering section talking about 'the bold bad Maquis Warrior' or shouting, 'Strut your stuff, Big Man'!" She nearly laughed as she caught more roses of embarrassment blooming on Chakotay’s cheeks.

"We also can't have anyone urging me to 'Rip his head off' or 'Eviscerate the bastard'," Chakotay agreed. "We don't want this turning into a grudge match. Things are bound to be ugly enough."

"Good point.” Kathryn paused. “Tuvok can give a quick refresher on proper Starfleet decorum. And *I'll* reinforce it. We'll present the combat as something more along the lines of a ritual to be respected."

"I think we need a little insurance," Chakotay said slowly, stroking his chin. "Maybe a few hints dropped here and there this morning that I'm worried about the outcome of the fight. Knowing Voyager's grapevine everyone will have heard the news by noon."

"Maybe. But you're the only one who can do that---people would know something was up if I wasn't supporting you one hundred percent." She quirked an eyebrow at him. "Have you said anything to Tom?"

"Yes, but he also heard how certain I am that I *will* win." He shrugged sheepishly. "All I could think of at the time was how sure I was that Tom would be kept safe. That was practically a shout, while my concerns were a whisper."

"Gone all fierce protector already, hmmm?” Delicate brows rose. “I'm surprised Tom hasn't figured you out."

"He seemed to accept it as part of my Commander persona, not directed toward him at all. And we shifted to a different subject almost immediately." Chakotay snapped his fingers. "B'Elanna!"

"B'Elanna?” Kathryn’s tone turned skeptical. “Are you sure, Chakotay? You've never lied to her, and she may not believe that you're doubting your fighting skills. After all, don't you two run through Klingon combat scenarios pretty regularly?"

"First off, I haven't lied to *anyone* on this ship, so far as I know,” Chakotay huffed. “And B'Elanna's familiarity with my abilities will add the stamp of authenticity. If I can convince her I'm worried about this match then she will be too."

"And so will most of the ship as soon as she drops a word in Harry's ear." Kathryn nodded, then looked at Chakotay more closely. "Just how far from the truth will it be?"

"Not much,” Chakotay admitted with a shrug. “I *am* concerned about what will happen. After the combat. I already know I'm going to win. I don't have any other choice."

"Then you'd best get going, because you don't have all that much time for gossip." As they rose and descended the few steps, Kathryn stopped her friend with a touch on his beige sleeve. "I wish *I* had another choice, Chakotay. I don't think I'm going to draw an easy breath from now until you get back from the Rutali homeworld."

"Concern from a friend, even from my captain, I'll readily accept." He shook a warning finger at her with his free hand. "But the first sign of ADBUG and I'll sic Mr. Dalby on you."

"Understood." Kathryn released him with a grateful smile. "You're supposed to arrive separately, so I'll see you in the arena."

Contemplative blue-gray eyes followed Chakotay as he left the room. /What a wonderful, noble man. It's a pity he can't have the love he deserves. Just the pain of falling for and losing Tom, then this tawdry business with Nedal./ Kathryn took a moment to make a foolish, romantic wish to the Fates, then shook off all of her worries and went back to work. Counting the hours.

************************************************************

B'Elanna's brows were drawn together, her expression one of fierce concentration. Of course, her staff wasn't taking any chances. They were industriously performing their duties. In case the scowl was just plain fierce.

The Chief Engineer didn't notice, her full attention focused on the padd in her palm. One she knew shouldn't be at her duty station, especially not turned on during her shift. But she couldn't resist. This puzzle was driving her bonkers.

Suddenly a large bronzed hand appeared in her line of vision, plucking the object from her grip. A soft voice started reading, "Painting, 4 to 25 hours, depending on canvas size, style and method. Glassblowing, 2 to 14 hours. Pottery, 1 to 3 hours spinning, 8 to 24 hours baking, additional time for glazing. Woodcarving, 1 to 20 hours depending on size of product. Sculpting...Lieutenant, are you considering a new hobby?" Chakotay's expression was simply inquiring, but his eyes told her that he knew exactly what was going on.

B'Elanna decided to bluff anyway. "Yes, I was looking at estimated time requirements for a single project. To help me decide on, um, which one."

"Mmm-hmm. And you felt a deep compulsion to make this evaluation at the beginning of your workday?" Chakotay turned off the padd. "Since you don't seem to be particularly busy, could you spare me a few minutes?"

B'Elanna looked more closely. The handsome face that had once upon a time haunted her dreams was carefully concealing tension. "Sure, we can go to my office."

The two didn't speak again until they had traveled to the second floor and closed the door behind them. B'Elanna quickly moved to perch on a corner of her desk. "So am I in trouble?" She figured it was safe enough to ask, since Chakotay was casually dressed and obviously off-duty.

"Of course not." Chakotay laid the padd down. "But I'd appreciate it if you ended this particular investigation. Into a new hobby."

"All right," she sighed in defeat, "but you should know that there are quite a few people mulling over the same information. Trying to figure out *what* exactly you and Tom are doing on the holodeck. Every night. *All* night. With a privacy lock only the Captain can remove."

Chakotay winced. "I wasn't aware speculation was so rampant."

"It is. And the fact that Tom is doing his best clam impression in years doesn't help any." B'Elanna looked at her friend, her eyes curious. "What's really going on with the two of you?" 

"You already know. Tom is helping me prepare a gift for the Regent. For when we reach Ruta. And that's all I'm going to say on the matter." Chakotay leveled his most serious look at his longtime friend. "I'm asking you to leave this be."

"OK." B'Elanna conceded. There was no arguing with Chakotay when he had *that* look. She doubted a tractor beam would be able to shift him from his decision. She crossed her arms. "So what brings you to my neck of the woods, off-duty and just hours before your fight?"

Chakotay gave a rueful sigh. "More gossip. What's the scuttlebutt on the match?"

B'Elanna snorted. "Colorful, to say the least. Once people heard what happened to Tom, they began eagerly anticipating the main event. They can't wait for you to kick some royal ass."

Chakotay shook his head. "Why is everyone so damn *certain* that's going to happen?" His agitation was apparent as he walked a circle around B'Elanna's visitor chairs. "Hasn't anybody even bothered to *look* at this guy? He's taller than me and built like a Klingon. Not to mention at least a few years younger."

"So what?” B’Elanna waved off the idea. “You've taken out *Cardassians*. Including quite a few that were attacking me, as I recall."

Chakotay shook his head. "That was a long time ago."

"Not that long." Surprise washed across B'Elanna's face. "You're really worried, aren't you?" She got up off the desk and stepped in front of Chakotay, halting him. "Why? You're in good shape. How many people do you think can handle a bat'leth and keep up with a half-Klingon? And as for the age difference," she ran her eyes up and down his loosely-garbed figure, "you look damn good to me. You could crook your finger and have more than a few dozen people eager to stake a claim on the 'old man'."

B’Elanna searched Chakotay’s expression. "Since when did you start questioning your own abilities, Chakotay?"

"Since I got put in this bizarre situation." Chakotay moved to one of the visitor chairs and settled on an arm. "I'm fighting the Regent to prove I'm worthy of wearing this," he flipped the Rutali seal, "but how the hell am I supposed to seriously take a swing at him? Assuming he gives me the chance. I mean, Nedal is going to be my host. It would be very rude to beat him up, to say the least."

"No matter how much he deserves it," B'Elanna said slowly, realization dawning, "or how much you'd enjoy it."

She moved nose-to-nose with her best friend and poked him in the chest. "You wily bastard. You were setting me up." Her eyes narrowed. "You were hoping I might mention your concerns in passing to Harry, who might discuss them with Neelix, who couldn't help but share them with Tuvok. Eventually the whole ship would think you don't stand a chance."

She bared her teeth, but it wasn’t a smile. "Care to tell me why you would want that to happen? You have *never* lied to me, Chakotay."

Chakotay sighed. "I'm sorry, B'Elanna. You're right, I was hoping to spread a little uncertainty. But I didn't want to put *you* in the position of having to lie to your friends." His mouth quirked a bit. "Unfortunately, you know me just a little too well."

He tugged on an ear as he offered his explanation. "It's come to light that the Rutali will be watching this match carefully. Maybe even basing some political decisions on it." 

His expression sobered even more. "This isn't clear-cut, like fighting a Cardie, B'El. And despite Nedal's behavior, I don't think our crew should *enjoy* it quite so much. It wouldn't be good for diplomatic relations. We could come all this way and end up being denied the wormhole because the Rutali think we've insulted them."

B'Elanna smiled and laid a hand on Chakotay's shoulder. "You could have just told me that, you know."

"Probably," he admitted, "but I don't think we can just order people to stop being so bloodthirsty." He laid a hand on top of B'Elanna's and quirked a hopeful eyebrow. "So am I forgiven?"

"Yes, but only because I know this must be pretty damn important for you to pull a stunt like that." Her smile laid the matter to rest. She freed her hand and poked him once more. "Just don't do it again."

"Understood." Chakotay nodded.

B'Elanna's eyes grew speculative. "I'll pass the word to tone things down---say that you're concerned about the age thing and all this talk might make you overconfident." 

She rolled her eyes at the ludicrousness of the idea, but continued. "Or maybe that you're applying some Maquis strategy. You don't want to tip our hand by being so obvious. It would be better if Nedal underestimated you."

Her expression became very serious as she clasped Chakotay’s arm. "But you can't ignore the danger you're in. You *have* to promise me that you're not going to pull your punches, Chakotay. You have to give this your best. Nedal is certainly not going to worry about hurt feelings or political consequences, so neither should you. From what I've heard, all he's interested in is hurting *you*. So you can't be soft on him. It's too risky to do otherwise." 

Her grip tightened. "And honor demands no less. Don't let him win."

"He won't, B'Elanna. That much I promise you." /Failure is not an option./ Chakotay's expression was absolutely certain and his eyes like granite. B'Elanna shivered a little, seeing again the Maquis warrior who had once killed Cardassians with his bare hands. She suddenly felt sorry for Nedal. But only for a second.

Then the ice melted and Chakotay bestowed a light kiss on B'Elanna's forehead. "Thanks."

Her brows quirked. "For what?"

"For seeing through the ruse but agreeing to pitch in anyway. For reminding me to get in touch with my inner Maquis." Chakotay grinned and gently moved his friend back a step so he could stand. "See you later."

B'Elanna shook her head at his departing back. /And here I figured this would just be between Chakotay and Nedal. Damn stupid politics. Why do aliens always make things so complicated?/ With a last huff she quickly circled to her terminal. She had some messages to send.

************************************************************

/Mr. Paris *enjoys* these sorts of things. He's qualified enough for this, and he's already here. Let him sit waiting to declare the victor---and patch up both victims of this barbaric ritual. I have no desire to see two men to strike each other into unconsciousness. I'm a doctor, not the Marquis of Queensberry./ While Voyager's EMH thought all these things, only a disgruntled "Hmph" passed his lips as he adjusted the medkit on his lap and addressed his neighbor. "Do you *really* think my services will be needed?"

Sisryn turned and gave a diplomatic smile that hid her gritting teeth as she answered the question for the tenth time. "Yes, Doctor. One physician is usually all that is required, but our medical staff is unfamiliar with human physiology."

"Very well." The Doctor gave in grumpily and shifted in his seat. "Are they going to start soon? We've been here for twenty minutes."

"I hope so, for I am also anxious for this issue to be decided once and for all." The Chief Consul's eyes swept the room. She suddenly waved, catching Milady's attention. She closed her conversation with the EMH, "Excuse me, but I have business to attend to."

The hologram harrumphed again and turned to his other side, wincing when he ended up nose-to-nose with an excited Neelix. He sighed. /This is going to be a very long afternoon./

The elder Rutali approached and sank into the seat next to Sisryn. "You should be grateful Nedal gave you the liaison job," she yawningly told her fellow minister. "I think I've been stopped by every Rutali on this ship to discuss the match."

"What are the reports from the prides? How do they and the Rutali on the ship view the combat, the Regent, and the Larat? Is there a prediction for the outcome?" Sisryn was practically bouncing in her seat. 

She'd been stuck cooling her heels in the "arrival chamber" all morning, since the contingent from Voyager's crew had been brought over on a staggered schedule approved by the Regent. /As if I had nothing better to do than play tour guide to people who already know the path between that infamous conference room and this reception hall./

"In order, very good, interesting, the sure winner, a plucky contender, a rather quick knockout." Milady laughed at the Chief Consul's groan of frustration. "To expound: the prides find the idea of a Larat challenging the Regent most titillating, though they scoff at the lack of real excitement a non-lethal combat will likely provide. Our leader is younger, stronger, bigger, so he is favored for an easy victory. The Larat has stirred enough interest to gain some support of his own, but I believe it is more whimsical than serious. The consensus is that the human will make a valiant try, but ultimately be defeated by superior Rutali skill." 

The older woman gave a very feline smile. "After all, we *are* hunters."

Sisryn's eyes slitted in speculation. "But you, Milady, have always contended that Chakotay, too, knows the predator's ways. Do *you* doubt the worthiness of your choice for Larat?"

"Of course not. I am simply answering your questions. You never inquired after my opinion." Milady leaned in with a knowing purr. "And of course, I don't need to ask who *you're* truly rooting for."

Sisryn bit her lip and fell silent.

***************

Tom watched the Captain settle down next to Ken Dalby, still holding his hand. It was kind of Chakotay to make sure the crewman's name was on the list of Voyager personnel beaming over to be the Commander's moral support for the fight. 

Tom was feeling rather unsettled. He of course had awakened alone, his companion already off on his mysterious errands. Then there had been a disturbing conversation with Harry before the staff meeting. It seemed that rumors were circulating---pretty credible ones, considering B'Elanna was among the sources---that Chakotay was worried about the fight. 

Adding to the gossip was the report that the First Officer had disappeared into his cabin after visiting Engineering. He was most notably absent from the holodeck. People had expected the Commander to take Tuvok up on his offer to go a few rounds as a warm-up for the combat.

Tom's restless gaze took in the changes to the hall. Banks of seats had been added to the shorter sides of the rectangular-shaped room. Voyager and Rutali representatives were mixed evenly in both sections. The torches still burned in their wall mounts on the longer ends of the space, and tape or some other kind of boundary marked a large area in the center, a square that comprised the entire width of the hall, while its length ended a few meters from the first row of seats. The lights were brighter to approximate daylight.

Whispers slithered all around Tom, discussions of the challenge and the contenders. He didn't like eavesdropping on the Rutali; they sounded secure in their victory. The uncharacteristically less-than-enthusiastic defense by his colleagues seemed to reinforce the expectation of a quick, decisive bout.

Tom joggled Harry's arm to get his attention away from a chat with Seven. "Harry, doesn't *anyone* still think Chakotay has a chance? I mean, yesterday they were all ready for him to pound the Regent into the carpet."

"What can I tell you, Tom?" The front of Harry's body, brows, shoulders and hands, lifted in exasperation. "If the Commander himself is feeling uncertain, who are we to disagree?"

"But he's a boxer, a Maquis warrior---heck, he uses bat'leths for sparring practice! Shouldn't those things count for something?" Tom shook his head.

Harry leaned back to give a quiet yell for the half-Klingon sitting a row behind. "Hey Maquis!"

"What!" B'Elanna said, breaking off her chat with Carey.

Harry jerked a thumb toward his neighbor. "Tom wants to know why Chakotay's so rattled by this fight."

B'Elanna leaned forward, bringing their three heads together. She seemed to pause a moment before answering. "Because he thinks he's a little old to brawl with the schoolyard bully."

"Chakotay's not old!" Tom almost leapt to his feet in defense of his lover.

"Hey, back off, Helmboy. *I* didn't say he was. Chakotay did." B'Elanna's eyes shot toward him like sharp brown darts. "What's it to you, anyway?"

"Uh, nothing." Tom quickly settled back down and winged it. "I just figure if, um, if you call *him* old, I can't be too far behind."

"Oh please, Tom. There may be four years between you and us, but there's nine between you and Chakotay." Harry rolled his eyes. "You're not a member of the geriatric brigade yet."

"Yeah, well, I'll keep that in mind." Tom slouched in his seat, trying to think of a way to change the subject.

"Whatever." B'Elanna snorted with impatience and began to straighten. "I wish they'd get this stupid thing started. It's noon now."

There was a loud sound much like a gong. The Rutali immediately fell silent, and Voyager's crew followed suit. A sense of excitement and anticipation filled the air. Milady rose from her seat and walked to the center of the "arena," waiting.

The hidden panel opened and Nedal strode forth to murmurs of appreciation. His strength and bulk were emphasized by close-fitting, bark-colored trousers tucked into boots, and a sleeveless vest that showed off his muscular plush-covered arms and chest. His brown gloves were matched with leather forearm guards that ended just below the elbow. His seal gleamed as it lay against his furred skin. He stood facing Milady, slightly off center.

The official doorway parted and Chakotay entered to gasps of surprise. He was dressed in his Maquis leathers, the snug tan fabric clinging to his legs and torso. A long-sleeved, dark brown shirt flowed down to his wrists, meeting the gloves in a single line of color. He swiftly moved to stand beside Nedal, completing the triangle of bodies.

***************

"Damn, I forgot just how good he looked as a Maquis rebel." Kathryn said without thinking.

"Hmmm...I guess I'd better dust off my own outfit and take a stroll around Sandrine's. I'm sure I'll find someone who'd prefer to take a walk on the wild side with a leather-clad *me*." Ken's quiet voice was a laughing challenge as he tried to relieve the tension.

The Death Glare made its appearance as Kathryn leaned in to deliver a warning. "I catch you anywhere outside my quarters in those clothes and I'll have you for breakfast, Mister."

Brown brows rose, unimpressed by the threat and the expression. "And that's supposed to be a deterrent?" Said brows waggled lasciviously as hazel eyes twinkled.

Kathryn grinned and lightly punched his arm, then they both sobered and turned back to watch as Milady raised her hands.

***************

The Rutali's voice was strong, echoing in the hall. "Since the time of the Celestials, the ritual of combat has been part of Rutali life. The disagreements of prides distilled to a contest between two fighters, representatives of each group in conflict. Hunter's blood flows through our veins, blood that is spilled in the pursuit of victory. Winner takes all, even the life of the defeated."

Milady lowered her hands and regarded the two men standing before her, light and dark. "But this is a new day, one that blends centuries-old traditions. For the seals of Larat and Regent are ever twined, gifts from the Celestials to their chosen people. The keeper of the title of Larat has never been challenged, until this moment. Chakotay, you have defied the sovereign authority of the Regent. Nedal, you have questioned the worthiness of this Larat. The combat will decide whose will is stronger. So we begin." 

The men turned to face each other as the regal figure glided to her seat. The gong sounded once more.

***************

Nedal immediately sprang into action, pacing back and forth in front of Chakotay, who stood still and simply watched him approach. Until a meaty hand swung toward his face. Chakotay immediately raised a forearm to block it, while his own fist shot toward the Regent's stomach.

The Rutali countered the move, surprised there was so little power behind the blow. He flexed his hands as he withdrew slightly and felt his claws push against the leather binding them. He growled and tried a sweep kick, which was nimbly avoided by the human. Nedal kept up his advance, forcing Chakotay back step by step. His eyes began to gleam as they approached a flickering torch.

Chakotay felt the heat radiating nearby. The next blow shifted to a push so he ducked and slid to the left, taking a step away from the fiery trap. His eyes narrowed and he acknowledged the failed strategy with a slight nod. Chakotay was still playing a purely defensive game, remembering the plan. He appeared just good enough to avoid his opponent's continual rain of blows, but kept missing the opportunities for counterattack by the merest breath.

Nedal became more bold and aggressive, aiming a complex series of jabs at the shorter man's head while attacking his lower body with kicks. Each move was met by a forearm or shin against his own. He kept trying to pierce the gloves each time the two fighters paused before breaking a stance and trying another assault.

Chakotay lifted an arm to stop a double-handed overhead blow and spun into the curve of Nedal's exposed body, so his back was to the Rutali's front. His free elbow quickly made its way into a leather-covered belly, rewarding him with a harsh grunt of pain bursting from Nedal's lips. A heartbeat later Chakotay broke completely away, standing in the center of the room, waiting.

***************

Tom didn't realize how tightly he was wound until he relaxed a little at the sight of space between Chakotay and the looming alien. He shook his hands, tingling from being clenched into anxious fists. A shoulder wriggle was needed as well, to ease the ache of being stretched taut. 

He'd vaguely felt himself flinching each time the Regent struck. That Chakotay had held his own so far was nothing more than expected, but something was off with his Titan. /There's definitely more here than meets the eye. Chakotay is holding back, I know it. But why?/

***************

Only the harsh breaths of the fighters and the snap-hiss of the torches broke the silence as the Regent approached once more. He felt the claws of his right hand break through and quickly retracted them before anyone noticed. It would take care and precision to use this new weapon against the surprisingly wily human. He dove in, punching and chopping, trying to force Chakotay back against the bulkhead once more.

Chakotay held his ground this time, his feet firmly planted as he continued to defend himself and land the occasional strike against the solid muscle and sinew of his opponent. Chakotay kept his eyes glued to Nedal's; he knew something was up but had no clue where the danger now lay. They were both sweaty and winded, for there were no breaks in this combat. 

They closed again.

***************

In the stands, Sisryn watched the battle carefully. She suddenly blurted, "I may have neutralized the Regent's claws, but I lamed the Larat as well."

"How?" Milady asked, startled at her companion's admission.

"I warned Chakotay that his defeating Nedal could spark a civil war." She watched the fighters clinch briefly and part. "The Commander told me he wouldn't throw the fight, but now I see he *is* holding back."

"Maybe not for much longer," Milady said mysteriously.

"What do you mean?" The Chief Consul clutched the other woman's arm. "If Chakotay *does* knock out Nedal, we're doomed," Sisryn's voice was a soft wail.

"That's not the only possible ending, my dear. We still have Rutali law and tradition to consider.” Milady shrugged. “I should know, I stayed up late enough researching it."

Sisryn jerked her head toward the elder. "Wha---?"

Milady shushed her. "Enough, Sisryn. The hunter waits in silence for the moment to strike."

***************

Chakotay never knew what instinct or premonition guided his actions, but he freely admitted the stroke of luck saved his place in the ring, and possibly more. The men had just finished another round of thrust and parry, and Nedal was coming at him from a new, odd angle, slashing downward. 

Perhaps it was the catlike familiarity of the gesture that alerted Chakotay on some unconscious level, but instead of simply leaning his head back slightly as he had done to avoid previous swipes, he lifted his arm to cover his face.

And immediately gasped from the searing pain. He felt the warmth of his own blood trickling onto his sleeve. Chakotay caught the flash of red-tipped claws out of the corner of his eye just before they were re-sheathed. Chakotay felt his temper finally snap at the Regent's smug grin. He growled low in his throat in warning as his body language changed. 

The Maquis veteran relaxed into a slight predatory crouch, his weight shifting onto slightly bent knees, one foot moving forward half a step as his body turned to present a narrower target. His dark eyes glittered as they reassessed Nedal, marking his points of weakness in a lazy trek from ankle to eyebrow.

***************

"Oh shit." B'Elanna sat forward with a groan, realizing all her efforts to make Chakotay appear weak and worried had just been blown away in a single instant.

"What, B'El," Harry called vaguely, eyes still riveted on the arena.

B’Elanna swallowed. "The Mystic Warrior just woke up."

***************

The two men circled each other once more, but this time as equals, large golden lion versus sleek dark panther. Chakotay now moved in a light glide, all coiled power and hard-won experience. His body language gave away no clues as to where and how he would strike.

Nedal paused in his own attacks, catching his breath and brushing the sweat from his brow. He knew they wouldn't last much longer, they were both getting tired and that's when mistakes were made. 

His eyes narrowed as he leapt without warning, again aiming for the human's vulnerable spots. The blocks to his moves had weight behind them now, and the counterstrikes were designed to disable. He was barely able to hold his own. 

The Regent felt anger surging at this open show of defiance and the claws on both hands---one set already bloodied and the other newly freed---were poised to rend and maim in the Rutali way.

Chakotay saw the claws reach out again for his face and decided he had had enough. He grabbed one meaty wrist and darted behind the Regent, pulling the Rutali's left hand toward the right shoulder. Then Chakotay reached around swiftly and grabbed Nedal’s other wrist, effectively crossing Nedal's arms and pinning them. He forced the hands up around the golden neck, hearing the claws snick back into the gloves as they came into contact with the short fur of the Regent's throat.

Chakotay leaned up to pant in the Regent's ear. "One of the first rules of combat is that any weapon can be turned against its owner. This is just poetic justice for your cheating." He pulled the crossed arms tighter around the royal's windpipe, intending to choke him into unconsciousness.

As he heard the Regent wheezing, Chakotay happened to glance toward the stands. He caught sight of Sisryn's horrified expression. He suddenly remembered the price the Rutali would have to pay for his victory. /Damn! You are such a soft touch,/ he berated himself as he sighed and loosened his grip a little, letting the taller man breathe more easily.

He shoved a knee into the backs of Nedal's legs, causing the Regent to sink in reflex. Chakotay’s grip shifted slightly as he prepared for his next move. Using the Rutali's shoulders and chest as a springboard, Chakotay launched himself over his opponent, making it look like Nedal had thrown him off.

Chakotay landed in a shoulder roll and gracefully rose to his feet. He felt blood dripping from the slashes on his arm, but dismissed the pain to the back of his mind. He kept a sharp eye on his opponent as Nedal stood and they started circling again.

***************

"Enough!" The volume of the roar from Milady shocked everyone into silence and the combatants into immobility. The Rutali took advantage, striding grandly into the ring. She walked up to the fighters and spoke to Nedal quietly. "It appears your equipment has failed you, Regent. This provides us with an opportunity to end the match equitably. The Larat retains his title," her eyes glowered with intent, "and you keep your own without challenge."

"No," Nedal replied, in a growl whose volume was as low as its register, "the fight will continue."

"Fair warning, Regent,” Milady warned. “The combat will not *continue*, but begin anew. This time with brand new gloves for both parties. So think carefully before you toss aside this chance. I won't grant you another."

Chakotay stayed silent. He suspected that he was a victim of sabotage, but there was little he could do to prove it. He simply waited, like Milady, for the Regent to decide. He drew himself up and sent a level stare to his opponent, trying to convey his determination to win. Whatever the cost.

The Regent gritted his teeth and slitted his eyes. He could tell that the fighter revealed in the last moments was the true Chakotay, all smooth strength and swift strikes. He was, indeed, a hunter among Voyager's pride of mostly prey. At the beginning of their clash the human had been holding back for reasons unknown. But those inhibitions had been shredded by the Rutali's own claws. Nedal's victory was now not so certain.

The words were bitter with the unfamiliar flavor of defeat, but Nedal spoke them. "You are ever wise, Milady. Do what you will."

The elder nodded and her voice rose once more to fill the hall. "By Rutali law, when a weapon breaks in a full blood rite the match is voided and begins again within three days."

She turned slightly, letting her eyes sweep one bank of seats and then the other. "But this is not a battle to the death, merely a confirmation of the Larat's right to wear the seal. So there are new standards for a new tradition. By the power vested in me by the Celestials, I declare the combat concluded and the challenge satisfied." 

Milady smiled and graciously indicated Nedal. "The Regent has been generous indeed. He will allow the Larat to retain his title without further proof."

***************

The gong sounded again, releasing the audience from their spell. Rutali voices were raised in excitement, dissecting the unexpectedly exciting match and anticipating the Larat's arrival on Ruta as they began filing out of the room. Nedal threw Chakotay one last glare and disappeared, alone, into the hidden passageway.

The Voyager crew flowed down from the stands. They swirled around Chakotay, congratulating him on the bout. Until the Doctor waved his medkit and announced, "Unless you'd like to have the Commander continue bleeding onto the carpet, you'll leave and let me get to my work."

Echoes of good-natured grumbles remained behind a moment as the crowd dissipated, leaving the Captain, the Doctor, and Tom with Chakotay. The EMH promptly flipped open his tricorder and began scanning. "These are fairly deep but should be quickly taken care of with a Level 3 regeneration. Not much blood lost, vital signs are good...." 

Suddenly the Doctor's eyebrows rose in shock at his readings. He turned a startled glance on his patient. "Commander, there are indications of---"

"---of the necessity of your leaving your field medic to finish this job." The Captain snatched the tricorder and medkit from the hologram's hands and gave them to a surprised Tom. He immediately caught on and unbuttoned the ripped and bloodied sleeve as he began cleaning and closing Chakotay's wounds.

Kathryn nodded, then turned back to her ship's doctor. Her voice reflected the gravity of the situation. "So now you know the nature of the 'gift' that's being offered to the Regent. I am ordering you, and asking you, to keep this to yourself and out of the official records. Anything you saw here, stays here."

Her expression softened. "Please."

The EMH took a few moments to reflect on how much damage rumors would inflict on his patient---and friend---if word leaked out. "Of course. Doctor-patient confidentiality clearly applies." 

He looked at Chakotay. "Rest assured, Commander, that no information about your...'preparations'...will be forthcoming from me. I'll respect your privacy."

"Thanks, Doc. I appreciate your discretion." Chakotay gave him a smile and nod of thanks as the EMH and the Captain left to return to the ship.

Tom was just finishing up, admiring the restored sheen of the coppery skin. He stroked a finger along the area a moment, unable to resist confirming that the damage was fully repaired. "Any pain?"

Chakotay glanced at the repair job. "No. You do nice work."

"Yeah, well, I wouldn't have needed to if you'd just done as I asked,” Tom pointed out. “Remember, *you* weren't supposed to get hurt." 

"That was my fault, I'm afraid." Sisryn hastened to Chakotay's side and laid a hand on his healed arm. "I'm so very sorry, Chakotay. I was sure the gloves would be enough---"

"Don't worry about it." The reassurance was delivered with a fond smile. "You did the best you could. Tests in a peaceful environment don't take into account the rush of adrenaline."

"Maybe. But I also think I need to keep a closer eye on things next time." It would be disloyal for Sisryn to voice her suspicions, so she simply left the statement hang in the air a moment without elaborating. Then she hastily retrieved her hand and bowed. "Congratulations on the outcome." 

Her voice lowered. "And thank you for what you did. I saw the restraint in your fighting; Nedal's reputation is intact."

Chakotay simply nodded. "What happens now?"

"Well for one thing, I go back to the lab with these gloves." She watched Chakotay pulled off his pair. "I'd like to see if we can institute non-lethal bouts for other disputes."

"I wish you luck, Sisryn,” Chakotay said as he handed them over. “It's a noble endeavor."

"Thank you. As for you, there will be no more challenges. *You* are the Larat for your people. Tomorrow I'll send information for the final arrangements, and the day after that we'll be on Ruta." She touched Chakotay once more. "See you then." 

She smiled and nodded at Tom, then moved to a small knot of Rutali flagship crewmen to ensure the reception hall was returned to its usual appearance.

Tom was about to open his mouth to speak when another voice intruded.

"Well done, Larat. You held your own, as I suspected you would." Milady approached the night-haired human and Nedal's now-lost golden one, noting the way their bodies had moved, closer in intimacy, then jerked back subtly to re-establish proper boundaries as they registered her presence. /No wonder the Regent is so very angry with the Larat. His imagination must be running wild, picturing these two together./

She flicked a curious glance up and down the pilot's lanky form, then turned to address the man wearing the glittering Rutali seal. "I give you fair warning, Larat. The Regent will be as harsh a judge as he was fierce a competitor. You'd best be prepared for all that will be expected of you." With a last speaking look and quick squeeze of a broad shoulder she left.

"What did that mean?" Tom asked, not liking the ominous tone.

"It means we have to stop playing games and face reality." Chakotay regarded his companion solemnly. "It means you have to decide whether you can handle the intensity of what I need you to do to help me."

Tom felt his skin tighten. "And what is that?"

Chakotay sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Ironically, the opposite of what you did yesterday. I think Milady has been told or figured out that you're the one who's been helping me. And that our relationship is...rather personal. So she was reminding me that Nedal *isn't* you. He's not going to be concerned with my comfort, or pleasure. He'll slake his passions as he wills and I have to...accommodate him as best I can."

Chakotay restlessly took a few steps, then returned to search Tom’s face. "Are you capable of that, Tom? Of finishing out the book's remaining chapters with no thought save your own fulfillment?" 

His expression softened. "If you're not, I understand. You're a very caring person. We could just part company now."

Tom's brows furrowed as he considered his answer. It *was* ironic: right after he proved that he was attracted to Chakotay, the person, he now had to treat the man as purely an object of lust. Passion without real connection.

It shouldn't be that hard a decision. This was what he signed on for, fucking without complications or commitments. But...could he spend his lust on his Titan and not get drawn into the passionate man's flame? Or maybe that didn't matter...Tom could be affected, he simply couldn't *show* it. And since he'd already hidden so much during this brief affair, one more evasion shouldn't make any difference.

"Yes," Tom said, lifting his head and returning the waiting stare, "with a few conditions."

Chakotay nodded. "Name them."

"First, I refuse to fuck *anyone* without prep, so you'll have to do that yourself. Do you think you can?" Tom was powerless to prevent the diversion of blood to his nether regions as he imagined a naked Chakotay reaching around to stretch his own ass, slick bronzed fingers parting perfect full globes....

"Yes, I'll figure it out." Chakotay gave a mental shrug. /It's probably something I'll need to know anyway. Nedal doesn't seem like he's much into foreplay./

"You'll also have to insert a plug of some kind, to keep you open and ready for me." Tom shivered with the fantasies *that* idea generated. /Jumping my Titan in a corridor, dragging him to an empty storeroom for a hard, fast fuck on the way to the bridge...oh yeah.../ He shook himself back to reality when Chakotay’s voice caught his attention.

"I'm going to be wearing one of the Larat outfits. It will be real, not holographic, so go easy on the clothes, okay?" Chakotay added more time to his mental estimates when he recalled that he needed to practice how to put the darn thing on, and keep it on while in motion.

"All right. Also make sure to have all of the remaining toys ready. As you suspected, they'll help me with my...objectivity." Tom was glad he had the day off; with his mind on the remaining chapters in the Rutali book he was pretty sure there weren't enough unengaged brain cells to fly the ship this afternoon.

"We'll also be in the Regent's suite. It's set up a little differently.” Chakotay tilted his head. “I'll see you at 2000 hours, then?"

"No, 1900," Tom countered. /Actually, I'm ready to go right now./

"1900. But not a moment before." Chakotay flashed his own warning before laying a hand lightly on Tom’s shoulder. "And thanks."

"Yeah." Tom wasn't all that coherent anymore. He felt the warmth seeping through the cloth barrier and seriously considered jumping Chakotay in the hallway. Then he took a deep breath and found some small bit of calm in the storm of anticipation. "Until tonight."

Tom barely refrained from licking his lips as he watched that snug leather-clad ass lead the way to the departure chamber. /250 minutes to go, and counting./


	13. Chapter 13

/This is hopeless. Absolutely hopeless./ Chakotay paused before a full-length mirror and stared at his reflection once more. Checking that everything was properly covered. Or at least as best as it could be under the circumstances. /I was right. I look like an idiot./ 

After he figured out how to prepare himself and put on the Rutali outfit, he had spent an hour getting familiar, if not comfortable, with the clothes and the butt plug.

Chakotay sighed in resignation and made another circuit of the vast room. He averted his eyes as he passed the table with Tom's remaining "toys", but paused at a few others.

One held his carefully wrapped flute. He ran his fingers along the protective cloth, musing. Although he'd lightly meditated, he hadn't dared a vision quest since the night he accepted the seal. He dreaded hearing what his spirit guide would say about his decisions, and about Tom. 

Chakotay was doing the admittedly cowardly thing and waiting until Voyager made it through the wormhole. Then he would present the she-wolf with the fait accompli of his actions. And accept whatever admonishments the spirit world was bound to bestow on him for his behavior.

With a last pat to the instrument he moved to a lower piece of furniture and adjusted the food and drinks arrayed on its gleaming surface. Small delicacies to please the palate, accompanied by bottles of both mild and more robust wines. Some fruit blends and water also sat ready. He wondered what Tom would choose, and if the selection would reflect the younger man's mood for the night.

He was once more made aware of the object residing in his body as he crossed to the bottle of massage oil and stack of towels resting on a waist-high table some distance away. They sat next to a high-legged, backless, Roman-style couch. Chakotay could easily picture a toga-garbed Tom indolently reclining on it like a bored patrician, leisurely munching grapes, gold laurel leaves gleaming against his fair hair.

Chakotay finally settled on a low, wide ottoman and swallowed as the plug in his ass pressed a little deeper. He worried about the coming encounter. 

He wished that he could talk to his "Professor". He still had questions about the remaining chapters in the Rutali book. Why people did the things depicted on the gilt-edged pages. If these were games Tom had played with other lovers. Whether there would be any pleasure in it at all for Chakotay.

But that lighthearted relationship was now set aside. Chakotay felt the crystal resting on his chest, the circlet's weight around his neck. He was the Larat, anticipating the arrival of the Regent. Tom would no longer be the sweet, teasing, compassionate teacher of the last few days. He would be someone expecting to be served, to be pleased, who was interested only in what his courtesan could do, not how he felt. 

Chakotay bowed his head a moment and bid good-bye to the siren who had captured his heart. Then he nervously rubbed his palms against the cushion, breathed deeply, and waited.

***************

Tom heard the holodeck doors shut behind him. He was in a small alcove outside the Regent's suite. He'd spent the hours before 1900 reading the Rutali tome and getting into character. It turned out to be frighteningly easy. At first he'd been worried about Chakotay. Sometimes Chakotay came across as such an innocent in sexual matters sometimes that he wondered how Chakotay was going to handle the activities outlined at the end of the book.

Then there came a shift in his thinking. He looked at the illustrations of coupling Rutali and began picturing Chakotay with Nedal. As his imaginings became more and more elaborate, his focus altered from concerns about his Titan to obsessing over *his* Titan. Determination rose in him to make the evening a memorable one. Absolutely unforgettable.

He set down his overnight bag and quickly stripped, dropping his clothes into a basket and kicking it under a table. He lifted a buttoned blue Rutali robe from the wooden surface, letting its silky folds spill towards the floor. He quickly put it on and found it covered him down to his ankles. Forgoing underwear, slacks and shoes, he pushed through a beaded curtain to enter the suite. And stopped, the long glittering strands falling from his slack hands.

Where the Larat's room was red, this one was white. Rich cream brocade covered the walls, set off by gold sconces containing torches like the ones in the reception hall. One part of the suite was obviously a bedroom, the four-poster draped in silk and satin even larger than their previous sleeping surface. 

Full-length, gilt-framed mirrors lined the wall of closets, and furniture even grander than the Larat's filled the high-ceilinged space. The floor alternated marble with richly woven carpets. All blending the many shades of pale.

A series of slender columns ran along the center of the room, graceful arches connecting them. Thus separated from the sleeping portion was the equally large sitting area of the suite. A series of groupings of plants, couches, settees, chairs, ottomans and tables littered the area, illuminated by free-standing gold torch-holders taller than Tom. To the side was a rectangular pool. It wasn't as vast as the outdoor one but still fairly large, with a banister and marble steps leading down into its flower-strewn depths. 

One corner of the living room boasted a fireplace, an abundance of large plush pillows piled on the carpet before it. There was an archway tucked into another corner, probably leading to the more prosaic facilities. A wall of slender glass doors revealed a balcony shadowed in the dark of Rutali night.

Most shocking were the accents: chains. A single gold cuff attached to a matching chain, to be precise. Sets of them hung from several of the columns, their counterparts wrapped around the base. The four-poster's poles were similarly embellished, at different levels suggesting a multitude of positions available. The walls, the floor, the fireplace, even the pool had their own sets discreetly coiled into gleaming piles. Tom's imagination raged as he considered the possibilities.

As Tom finished the sweep of the room movement caught his attention, then the sight before him stole his breath. /I was right. He looks magnificent./

Chakotay was standing in front of the farthest set of furniture. He looked like he would be perfectly at home in a daring Arabian-nights fantasy. He wore cloth of gold, the pieces not sewn together but held in place by figure eights of thin gold braid looped around crystal buttons. Perfectly matching the barbaric seal gleaming on the exposed skin of his chest.

A loincloth was secured by buttons and braids at each hip. Other loops held a hand-width strip of gold silk that ran down the inside of thigh and calf to be loosely clasped around each ankle. The cloth wasn't so much a pant leg as a silky background for each muscular limb.

Similarly, material secured at the top of each shoulder flowed down to the wrist, its free-swinging folds framing each arm. Two cloths drew diagonal lines across Chakotay's torso, centered to cover each nipple, forming a vee as they met diamond-like buttons sparkling in the center of his waistband. Tom bet that matching strips were secured at the base of man's spine.

The entire outfit tantalized, the gold silk clinging to the coppery flesh or sinuously curving around it. It invited the eye to linger over the expanses of bared satin skin, yet tantalized the imagination with the treasures yet unrevealed. 

And this sensuous model of male perfection existed solely for Tom. To serve him. To please him. However he demanded. Tom swallowed at the magnificence of the gift.

Tom then noticed that his Larat had, in accordance with custom, not met his eyes. Instead the Larat’s gaze was fixed on the gap created by Tom's own half-buttoned Rutali robe. 

"Remove your shoes," Tom commanded and watched the black-haired figure silently slip off the gold sandals that completed the ensemble. It was a purely practical decision. If Tom lost control and ripped the glistening cloth from the burnished flesh he didn't want to waste time with footwear. 

He beckoned the living, breathing wet dream forward to a clear space in the center of the sitting room. It was like watching a panther, all restrained power and smooth gliding grace. When he stopped, Tom moved forward to slowly circle his prize, eyes feasting on all that was his to savor.

Chakotay kept his breathing easy, his hands open, his body relaxed. But it was a struggle to retain his composure. He didn't usually have a problem with being looked at, but this wasn't the casual brush of a stranger's glance or the heated stare of a lover. It wasn't even the smoky appreciation of his siren. 

This was...invasive...like being sized up to be devoured by a predator. Every inch of his body slowly consumed by a hungry gaze in a voracious, rapacious, yet agonizingly slow exploration. His skin tightened in instinctive reaction when the man wearing blue silk stepped behind him.

Yes, two gold strips formed a similar slant along the muscular back. The dimples at the base of Chakotay's spine were just barely visible above the loincloth clinging to the extravagant curves of the rounded buttocks. Tom reached out a single finger to run up the cleft, seeing the figure under his hand shiver in response. 

He also felt the edge of an object holding open the hidden portal. In preparation for him. His own body flushed with desire and he withdrew a moment to calm down. There was no way he would spoil this opportunity by acting in haste. 

Glancing around the room, Tom’s hazy gaze chanced upon the trays of refreshments near a comfortable-looking chair and ottoman. He strolled over to it and settled in, placing his feet on the stool and letting the robe part just above his knees. He felt like a king on a throne, and summoned his comely subject. "Food and wine," he ordered.

He watched the Larat approach, then a soft, melodious voice stroked his eardrums. "What does my liege desire?"

/Too much, too quickly. That's why we're using food as a delaying tactic./ Tom waved a negligent hand. "Surprise me."

Chakotay carefully examined the table's contents, his fingers hovering over the selections. Finally he picked up a small bone china plate and chose several of the savory items and a few of the sweets. He filled a crystal goblet with a smooth apple wine, and added a dash of cinnamon. He held out the items to Tom, relieved to note his hands were steady.

He watched long fingers reach out for the glass, but was a little surprised when Tom simply looked at the food, looked at him, and lifted a golden brow in silent expectation.

Chakotay selected a stuffed cherry tomato and brought it to the edge of the pink lips, which opened to accept his offering. He delicately pushed the hors d'oeuvre in, hastily withdrawing as soon as the task was complete. He followed with the rest of the appetizers, occasionally taken from his hand with a nip of white teeth or a rough stroke of tongue. 

He then offered a bite of plain bread to cleanse the palate before the sweets.

Tom chewed the morsel, letting its blandness absorb the light spices of the food so far. He sipped his wine and enjoyed the view as Chakotay stood waiting next to his chair. Tom’s eyes were on a level with the powerful chest, and he reached out a hand to run along the smooth flesh of the man's exposed side. The barely clad figure stilled, probably suppressing the urge to jump away and run out of the room. 

Tom continued to pet the warm, living satin stretched over sharply defined muscle. His fingers ranged over torso, hip and leg. He explored all of the gleaming bronzed skin within reach, but carefully refrained from disturbing the gold cloths. He watched the faintest flickers of anxiety and undeniable pleasure disturb the Larat’s serene expression and liquid eyes. /Ah yes, my Titan, you do enjoy being touched. Almost as much as I enjoy touching you./

Chakotay's cheeks burned with humiliation and unbidden response to the sensations as he stood quietly under Tom's hand. He felt rather like a thoroughbred being stroked by its owner. He considered opening his mouth in case Tom wanted to check his teeth. But he didn't, since that was not part of his role. The Larat *was* the Regent's plaything. He should be grateful that he had so far been allowed to keep his meager coverings and a shred of his dignity.

Tom rested a hand along the warm back and drew his companion closer, nodding his readiness for...dessert. He closed his eyes in bliss at the tiny eclair that soon spread its flavor along his tongue. Additional delicate pastries were interspersed with bite-sized pieces of ripe fruit. He felt the edges of the strong fingers brushing his mouth as each treat was delivered.

When he was done, Tom licked his lips and opened his eyes.

Chakotay quickly dropped his own gaze as appropriate. He'd been staring in rapt attention at the handsome face reflecting its enjoyment of the different flavors. Tom's expression was almost orgasmic and Chakotay had sternly quashed the urge to lean forward and press a kiss to the smiling mouth. He hastily cleared his throat and asked, "Would you like some more?"

Tom drained his glass and considered his attendant. What he wanted was *not* on the table, but he didn't feel ready to tackle the next step. Not yet. He handed over his glass. "Wine, yes." He gave a small nod and smile. "It was an excellent choice."

Chakotay bowed slightly in acknowledgement and turned to set down the plate. He refilled and re-spiced the glass and handed it back to the other man. Their fingers brushed and both gasped at the spark of sensation. The atmosphere charged with electricity.

Tom hastily adjusted his robe. He needed to calm down, *now*. He didn't think he wanted entertainment; that was too likely to excite him even more. He eyed the couch that clearly doubled as a massage table, but immediately rejected it. 

He never felt in control under Chakotay’s hands. And he definitely needed to be in control. He considered the items next to the enticing piece of furniture. /Maybe not a full massage.../ "Bring the oil and towels."

He watched Chakotay cross the room in careful strides, the torchlight reflecting off his skin and clothing. As his Titan returned, Tom indicated his legs resting on the ottoman. "Sit. I would like a foot massage."

"As you wish," came the soft reply. Chakotay eased gingerly onto the cushioned surface, then spread a towel over his thighs. He lifted one narrow foot into his lap and opened the bottle of unscented oil. He slicked his hands and began to work, for the moment forgetting that he'd been ordered to this service. He became absorbed in simply bringing relaxation and pleasure to someone he loved.

Tom leaned back, sipping his wine. As always, Chakotay's touch brought him a profound sense of warmth, caring and peace. And to have the physical sensation enhanced by the visual stimulation almost made him groan with pleasure. He was startled to actually hear the rumble of appreciation from his belly as strong thumbs kneaded the ball of his foot.

Chakotay watched the effect of his ministrations out of the corner of his eye. Tom was bonelessly sinking into his seat, his whole body softening. He continued his work on the second foot. He finished by rubbing the ankle and instep in his grip, then set both feet down. Chakotay cleaned his hands, then gently dried off the soles of Tom's feet so Tom wouldn't slip on the marble as he walked. Then Chakotay stood, set aside the re-folded towels and oil and waited for his next command.

Tom gazed at the beautiful figure through half-closed eyes, again wandering the artfully decorated, satiny canvas. Anticipating his enjoyment of its hidden delights. But first, he needed to compensate for the undeniable power of all those rippling muscles. Chains were apparently the Regent's method of choice, but which set? 

He thoughtfully chewed his lip in contemplation as he considered his options. He felt a slight buzz from the wine, just enough to relax his inhibitions. And let his lust mix with nascent jealousy to unleash the rougher aspects of his sexuality. He was ready to begin.

Chakotay watched Tom’s speculative gaze turn into a definite leer. He suddenly wished *he* had indulged in some alcohol, but knew he needed to keep a clear head. He accepted the empty goblet thrust toward him and returned it to the table as Tom stood.

Tom's gaze sauntered over the gold-draped form, measuring the length of the strong limbs. He nodded and turned, beckoning for his courtesan to follow.

Chakotay felt the plush of the carpet give way to the smoothness of marble as the men approached the line of columns. Tom faced him, graciously gesturing for his companion to take his place under an arch.

Swallowing a lump of uncertainty at the sight of the gleaming chains dangling from brackets on either column, Chakotay stepped into the space indicated. He turned and faced Tom, wanting to keep an eye on what was happening.

Tom picked up one of the cuffs and opened it, sensing the faint hesitation in as Chakotay offered a crystal-and-gold-clad wrist. Tom lifted the arm further, pushed down the "sleeve" slightly and secured the manacle with a distinct click. The bronzed arm was now suspended at an angle, swinging slightly with the chain.

Chakotay was trembling as the second clasp was secured. His upper body now spanned the space between the columns, his figure forming a Y shape. His eyes followed the gleaming links up to the bracket that secured the chain to the structure. He wrapped his hand around the metal length and tugged, testing the strength of the binding.

Tom unwound the matching chains from the bases of the columns. He gripped one trim ankle and slid it outward to meet the waiting cuff, feeling Chakotay’s weight shift to compensate. He repeated his action with the other leg, then stepped back to admire his handiwork. 

Chakotay was now fully secured, opened to an X by the taut chains.

/Prometheus bound,/ Tom thought idly as his eyes slid down the strong, trapped figure. /I wonder what will bring this proud Titan to his knees./ He noted the faint tremor in the limbs, causing the chains to clink. The sign of nervousness was countered by the deep, even breaths and still-calm expression. 

Tom stepped forward and lifted Chakotay’s chin, searching the wide doe eyes. They weren't burning with desire, and he couldn't name the emotions swirling in their depths.

Chakotay's anxiety increased as he stared into blue eyes he no longer recognized. There was something feral about them as they searched his own, then raked his chained body once more. This situation left him feeling more exposed and unsure than at any point since the inception of their agreement.

For reasons Tom couldn't even explain to himself, the sight of his Titan restrained and spread for his pleasure sparked his darker desires. To claim, to own, to possess. He was the *first*. The first man to touch this exquisite body, to know it, to drive it to orgasm while taking his own pleasure. He should be the last. The only. It angered him to think of Nedal sharing this bounty. Of daring to lay hands on this rare and incomparable treasure.

Tom’s hand tightened on Chakotay's jaw as Tom suddenly pressed his mouth to the full lips, forcing them open to accept his ravishing tongue. He explored the warm cavern, sucking its breath and sweetness into his own. His other hand pressed into the crystal buttons on the gold-clothed back, pulling their bodies together.

Chakotay's eyes closed as desire uncurled in his belly, startling him. He pressed forward of his own accord, tasting the wine lingering on Tom's tongue. It didn't seem to matter if his captor was motivated by passion or power; he was helpless as always before his siren's silent call. He felt the shackles chafe his wrists as he strained against them, wanting to encircle the slim waist.

Tom's hand moved from the strong jaw to bury itself in the silky black hair. There was much to do before the night was ended. He yanked Chakotay's head back and hissed, "Choose, my fiery beauty, which will come first. Pleasure..." His eyes glittered. "...or pain."

"Pain." Chakotay never hesitated. He desperately hoped that by the end of this experience, other feelings would overshadow the memory of the hurt.

Tom nodded. "As you wish." He released the Larat's head but held his eyes. "You may make any sound you wish, but if you speak again before I allow it I'll gag you. Understood?" He waited for a nod of acknowledgement. 

When he got it, he reached for one chained wrist. He calmly slipped a loop off one button, letting the material swing away to completely bare the shapely arm. He ran his hands along the muscles, then his lips, licking at the crook of the elbow. He ignored the shoulder buttons and instead unhooked the fasteners at the center of the waistband, leaving the material loosely draped over the wide chest. 

Tom knelt and released an ankle button, watching the cloth part to reveal the entire surface of a gleaming leg. He kneaded the trapped limb, feeling Chakotay shudder in reaction. He looked up to see the lush lower lip clenched between white teeth. He drifted leisurely over to the left side of Chakotay’s chained body.

Tom unhooked the bottom of the silk, then rubbed the cloth up the slant of the spread leg. Chakotay stirred restlessly as the chains rattled and a soft sound escaped. Tom's fingers slid slowly up to the gold braid that was the only covering for the hip, playing with the buttons there before leaving them intact.

He continued to caress up Chakotay’s torso, then along the arm until he could expose the other wrist. He stepped back to assess the situation once more.

A light sheen of sweat had broken out over Chakotay’s body, making the bronzed skin gleam as brightly as the gold. The ends of the material swung free, completely baring the muscled limbs, now decorated only by the gold restraints. Tom reached out to the muscled abdomen and ran his hands underneath the material resting against it, sliding his way up the silk-skinned torso, pushing the gold cloth over the tops of the powerful shoulders. 

Now Chakotay was undressed to the waist, the top half of his outfit mere scraps of cloth dangling from the buttons at the bottom of his back.

"Much better," Tom murmured approvingly, flipping the Rutali seal and flicking the dusky nipples before breaking off and striding to the table of toys.

He deliberately blocked Chakotay's view as he regarded the implements laid out for him. He selected a heavy leather whip and cracked it experimentally. Even he flinched at the sharp sound. He replaced it and picked up a delicate golden chain that glistened in the light. As it uncoiled, the nipple clamps on its ends came into view. 

Tom smiled and draped the apparatus over his arm. He looked at lashes, paddles, gags, masks, rings, staying well away from the truly dangerous instruments. He finally chose a blindfold of gold and a wide strap that was made of a soft and flexible leather.

Chakotay rotated his wrists in the cuffs and backed up half a step, easing some of the strain. He grabbed the chains again, which also took off some of the pressure. His nerves were stretched taut, wondering what Tom had in store for him. 

Although Chakotay doubted that Tom meant to inflict any permanent damage, pain was pain. And unfortunately, pain was in the Rutali book as part of the Larat's sexual repertoire. He worked his shoulders a little, trying to ease the tension. 

His attention was caught by the flash of blue silk as Tom returned to stand in front of him. The long pale fingers were stroking some lengths draped over one arm. Almost caressing them.

Tom extended his fingers, brushing them across his captive's taut pectorals, watching the brown eyes darken and smolder. He teased the small male nipples until they peaked, erect and sensitive. With a satisfied smile he swiftly clamped them, ignoring Chakotay's small startled gasps. He admired this added adornment, the new metal blending perfectly with the barbaric splendor of the Rutali necklace and manacled chains.

He tugged slightly on the small dangling links, this time looking up to see the uncertain expression crossing Chakotay's face. Tom smiled. "You're not sure whether this is pain or pleasure, are you? It will be both." He stared deep into the bottomless dark eyes.

Tom then lifted a hand to explore the indigo lines of the tattoo, to stroke down the regal nose and over the high-boned cheeks, to tease the soft lips, following their curves and dipping in to sample moist heat. He retrieved the gold cloth, tossed the strap over his shoulder and ordered softly, "Close your eyes."

Chakotay's body tensed as his sight was blocked by the blindfold. He could feel Tom wrapping it around his head once and then again, tying a soft but sure knot. The scarf's ends dangled against the back of his neck. 

He felt Tom's hands on his face again, this time framing it as Tom bestowed a gentle kiss. It was a nonverbal request for trust, and Chakotay responded by reassuring Tom the only way he could, by relaxing into the embrace. 

The lips left him and Chakotay felt a forehead pressed against his own, then the absence of Tom's warmth as his lover crossed through another arch to stand behind him.

Tom stood regarding Chakotay's smooth back, glistening and powerful. He was anticipating the way the strap would warm the skin, defining the muscles and enhancing the fire of the flesh, making it even more beautiful. 

Tom squeezed the top of one shoulder a moment as a signal, feeling Chakotay relax even more. He nodded to himself and stepped back, raising the strap and bringing it down sharply, creating a faint red mark on the sleek surface. He heard a soft gasp but ignored it, knowing he would only stop at true sounds of distress.

Chakotay breathed with the rhythm of Tom's blows. There was pain, but the strikes weren't overly heavy and the strap wasn't as harsh as a whip. He didn't think the skin would break, the welts mostly bruising and heating the flesh of his back. Tom also seemed to be taking care not to cross the stripes from earlier blows. It was bizarre, but Chakotay began to have an inkling as to why people might volunteer for this experience.

With the temporary loss of his sight, his other senses seemed enhanced. And as the strap continued to fall the skin on his back seemed to sizzle, becoming more and more sensitized. The pain began to be submerged in a strangely erotic acuity of awareness. He wasn't exactly aroused, but he seemed primed, as if his body craved the increase in intensity the mix of pain and pleasure promised. 

Suddenly the blows ceased, and all he felt was the coolness of the air on his sweaty chest and blazing back.

Tom flung the strap aside, and regarded the bright red glow that stretched from the Rutali seal down to Chakotay's waistband. He lay his pale hands against the reddened skin; it burned under his touch. He heard a long, low moan from his lover as he delicately brushed his fingers down the muscles on either side of the spine. 

Curious, Tom closed the throat of his robe and stepped forward, rubbing the cool blue silk against the heated flesh as his hands moved around to play with the chain decorating the powerful chest.

Chakotay groaned and shook as the silk---and the curly hair beneath it---rubbed against his painful, torturously sensitive back. He wasn't sure what to do; he was trapped, by chains and long limbs, and could only endure. He moaned again when a cool stream of air ran down his spine, Tom's breath marking his descent to his knees. Chakotay felt nimble fingers move to his hips. The buttons were unhooked as the loincloth and all of its attachments were drawn away, leaving him naked.

Tom carefully laid the gold outfit aside and quickly scooted between Chakotay's spread legs. He knew if he stayed behind the man he wouldn't be able to resist the temptation of that unparalleled ass. Instead he leaned up and licked behind the heavy scrotum, hearing a surprised sound above him. Tom laid on his back in the space between Chakotay’s bound feet, caressing the gloriously carved calves and thighs, tickling behind the knees.

He sat up and began nibbling up the insides of the solid limbs, hearing the clink of chains and seeing the sway of Chakotay’s body unable to escape.

Chakotay heard the slither of silk as Tom moved fully in front of him. His head was tilted slightly as he tried to get some sense as to where that tormenting mouth would strike next. He gasped at a sudden embrace, nails lightly scoring his abraded back as a still-robed body pressed into his own. He felt Tom's buttons pressing into his chest, stomach and pelvis, even brushing against his arousal. 

He was well aware of Tom's erection, currently being ground into his own behind a barrier of silk as his captor moved in small, languid thrusts. Teeth were sliding up and down his neck, grazing and nipping. Then the chain bridging his nipples caught on one of the fasteners and was pulled, reminding him of its existence as he gave a startled cry.

Tom stopped and untangled the chain. His eyes narrowed as he tugged it deliberately, earning him a gasp from his captive. He looked at the faint marks on the strong throat and decided they weren't enough. He leaned in and bit the graceful column, sucking the flesh hard between his teeth. He felt Chakotay’s body arch, dark head going back to make Tom’s task easier.

Tom continued to draw on the same morsel of flesh, breathing in the heady aroma of arousal mixed with the sweet-spice scent of the soft skin.

Chakotay felt the cuffs cut into his wrists and ankles as his hands lost their grip and he unconsciously surged forward, seeking relief. The clamps were beginning to hurt as he became more aroused. He wanted to plead for an end to this---or even just to feel Tom's naked body against his own---but he didn't want to be gagged as well as blindfolded. Instead he continued moaning and pulling at the chains.

Tom accepted Chakotay’s weight as Chakotay surrendered to the pain from his captor's mouth and hands. Tom looked at the gorgeous, gleaming body, the splayed limbs and proud erection, and thought, /Mine. You are mine. Totally mine. Only mine./ He looked at the bruise forming against the dusky skin of Chakotay's neck and something primal rose up in a fierce Yes. 

He would mark his Titan, proof of ownership. He released the clamps, ignoring Chakotay’s groan of relief as he threw the chain away and fell on the bound figure in a feral frenzy. His hands scored bloody welts along the smooth sides as his nails raked sweat-slicked flesh on the way to the sleek hips. 

Once there Tom’s nails sank into warm skin, digging crescents in the unblemished flesh.

At the same time he began tormenting Chakotay's swollen nipples, biting and sucking, ignoring the choked cries from his lover as he moved from one to the other, kissing and nipping the muscles in between. His teeth scored the Chakotay's trembling belly as he moved down to the leaking, straining cock. 

Tom sucked the richly flavored precum from the pulsing shaft before swallowing it whole.

Chakotay shrieked and twisted in the imprisoning chains, driven wild by the mouth and throat closing around his erection. He couldn't thrust or retreat in the clamp of those unrelenting hands. His skin burned everywhere from the ache of the strap and the newly delivered marks of nails and teeth. 

The welts and wounds throbbed with his heartbeat and stung as the salt of his sweat entered them. His breath sobbed in his throat as his balls drew up and blood surged through his cock, desperate for completion. Then the mouth and hands were gone, leaving Chakotay hanging, quivering, on the precipice.

Tom surged to his feet and tore open the Rutali robe, feeling it swirl around his frame as he grabbed Chakotay’s head and pushed his tongue into the panting mouth. He ripped off the blindfold and thrust his hips against Chakotay's, grinding their erections together. Then he pulled his mouth away and growled, his hands reaching down to enclose the bound man's heated length. 

One hand gripped and pumped the shaft while the other teased the crown, stroking a thumbnail into the slit.

Chakotay screamed and strained against the chains, his cock finally erupting into the clever pale hands. After what seemed like an eternity suspended in orgasm he rocked back on his heels, chest heaving and slippery with sweat. His eyes squinted against the sudden brightness, then opened wide with shock.

Tom was pumping his own cock with his still full hands, the blue silk robe framing his body. Pale skin was flushed with excitement, the pink nipples half-hidden in golden curls as erect as Tom’s engorged cock. Tom’s eyes glittered as he stared at Chakotay, teeth bared in a fierce snarl.

Suddenly Tom yelled and went over the edge, thrusting into his cupped hands, mixing Chakotay's semen and his own.

Tom raised his dripping fingers to his lips and delicately licked the salty fluid, then approached his Titan. He saw the chains stretch taut again as his prey stumbled back half a step before stopping and simply watching his approach, still silent. He didn't see fear in the dark brown eyes, just bewildered shock.

As Tom approached his captive he raised his cupped hands and parted them, trickling the white liquid over the hairless skin. He rubbed his sticky palms and fingers all over Chakotay's torso and groin, marking him with their combined scent. 

When he was done he slid the silk from his shoulders to spill on the floor and pressed himself against his lover, rubbing the fluid into his own flesh and once more claiming the full, kiss-swollen mouth. /Mine./

Chakotay was still recovering, trying to make sense of this strange night. He'd expected rough sex---that was the focus of the remaining Rutali chapters. But he'd been unprepared for anything like this wild ride. He was stunned by his own surrender to the sharp-edged passion at Tom's hands. 

He opened his mouth once more under Tom’s assault, feeling their release slick and wet against his own skin, reminding him of his many cuts, small and large.

Again, his frustration rose as he tugged at the golden chains, desperately wanting to be free. He felt the long arms of his lover embrace him once more, Tom’s hands exploring Chakotay’s stinging back. Then he felt them slide down to his buttocks, squeezing and stroking before they moved to wiggle the plug still inside Chakotay’s ass. He moaned as the almost-forgotten object moved inside him, manipulated by deft fingers.

Tom wrapped himself more tightly around his bound Titan, moving his renewed erection against the glistening, smooth belly. He pulled back and retained his embrace as he slid under a swinging chain to press himself against the bronzed back. He pulsed his hips a few times against the firm buttocks, pushing against the plug. 

Greedily Tom’s mouth moved to start marking Chakotay’s neck and upper back, following the line of powerful shoulders. His hands wandered down Chakotay's front, teasing and stroking, arousing his captive’s body once more.

Chakotay groaned as he felt the plug yanked from his ass. He could almost feel Tom's eyes on his spread buttocks, looking at the gleaming orifice. Then suddenly he was filled to the hilt with Tom's hard, hot cock as Tom’s body slammed into him, bowing him forward with the force of the thrust. 

He screamed, a primal cry of welcome, and grabbed the chains, pushing back to ease the strain on his arms.

Tom pulled out almost completely before shoving in again, this time feeling his partner's body simply rock with his movement. He was determined to pound his essence so deep into his Titan that no one---not even Nedal---would ever supplant him. His fingers were bruising as they settled once more around the solid hips, yanking Chakotay back to impale him even further. So Tom could go even deeper.

The need was like a fire in Tom's brain as he pumped and pumped and pumped, listening to the wild sounds coming from his chained lover. His eyes focused on the bites he'd delivered along the skin between Chakotay's neck and shoulder. One spot remained untouched. He dove for it, snapping his teeth tight around his target. 

A strangled sound of real pain startled him, then the bitter, salty tang of blood filled his mouth as he pulled back in shock, staring at the torn bronzed flesh, watching a thin line of red trace its way down the curve of the broad back. He froze, still buried, overcome by shock at his own brutality. "Oh shit, Chak, I'm sorry," he said in panic, releasing his fierce hold and beginning to hastily pull out, intending to end the scenario and repair the damage to Chakotay’s ravished, ravaged body.

"No!" The voice of command was enough to halt Tom in his tracks. Chakotay took a deep breath and took charge of the situation. He knew that if it ended now, Tom would berate himself for all that he'd done in the haze of passion. Chakotay backed up a step, reseating the still erect flesh in his body. 

Then he reached up, wrapped his right hand more fully around the golden chain, and gave a single, powerful yank. The bracket separated from the column with a breaking sound, pieces of plaster clattering to the floor.

Shock held Tom immobile as he watched the same arm, chain swinging from the wrist, reach behind his own head. Suddenly he was jerked forward, leaning over Chakotay’s bleeding shoulder, to stare into the heart of an inferno. He moaned helplessly under the blast of desire and passion in burning dark eyes.

Then he felt the press of Chakotay's mouth against his own, grinding hard and relentlessly, tongue pillaging without relief while the hand held him in place. The pressure increased until Tom tasted his own blood as his lip was cut against his bottom teeth. Then his head was pulled back.

He stood mesmerized as the same remorseless tongue reached out and slowly licked the blood from his lips. A heartbeat later his eyes were captured again in a ring of fire as Chakotay growled, "Finish it." 

Then the Larat released Tom, moved his arm and head forward and commanded, "Computer, restore chain." With all limbs stretched taut once more, Chakotay looked over his shoulder. One sable brow rose in challenge.

Tom stared for another moment, then growled and thrust. The fire in his Titan's eyes had burned out his own shame, worry, horror, everything but passion and need and the knowledge that Chakotay wanted this. Wanted *him*. 

He stretched out his own arms, laying them against his lover’s and meshing their fingers together. He began chanting with each breath, "Mine, mine, mine," as he drove both of them toward fulfillment.

Chakotay gripped the fingers wrapped around his own and pushed back in rhythm with Tom. His own grunts were unintelligible as his prostate and bruised back were pounded with every lunge of Tom's body against his own. They were both dripping with sweat, slick flesh sliding as they slammed into each other again and again. His cock ached, throbbing in the coolness of the air. 

He drove back harder and heard the fierce voice in his ear. /Yes, yes, yes,/ his mind echoed as his body suddenly jerked, another scream ripped from him as his untouched cock sprayed his cum into the air. He felt every single hair on Tom's body brushing against his skin as Tom continued to plunge over and over.

Tom was howling, lost to everything but the throes of his own release. He thrust again and again into the heated, satin channel, long after his balls were empty, his mind ablaze with the white-hot rush of ecstasy. Finally his spent senses began to return and he became aware that he was slumped over Chakotay's shoulder and back, both of them held up by the chains digging into bruised, bloody wrists. 

Tom shook his head, clearing it, and quickly bent to release the chains around Chakotay’s bound ankles. Then he reached up to release one shackle, then the other. He helped Chakotay sink to hands and knees on the marble floor. "Stay here, Chak. I've got the Doc's medkit in my bag."

He dashed off to the alcove, his body still thrumming with the pleasure of the most intense orgasm of his life, but his mind stunned by the blend of sex and violence. And the way he had reveled in it.

Chakotay was still shaking with aftershocks of pleasure, absolutely blown away by the whole experience. He used a column to climb to his feet and carefully made his way to the pool. His limbs felt strained and sore, but also light and free without the chains. He eased himself into the warm water just as Tom reappeared.

"Hey! I told you to stay put." Tom hurried over, juggling a tricorder, hypospray and regenerator. He knelt and set the equipment on the tile by the steps where Chakotay was soaking. He laid gentle fingers near the torn skin of the bite, red and raw-looking. "Are you all right, Chak?"

Chakotay nodded, then said quietly, "Perhaps you'd better just leave those with me. I'll probably be repairing myself as well as preparing."

Tom raised a hand to Chakotay’s cheek. "That's probably true, but let me do this, OK?"

Chakotay didn’t doubt the sincerity shining in Tom’s eyes. He couldn't deny Tom's instinctive need to make amends. He brought a hand up to cover the one on his cheek. "As you wish."

Tom felt tears sting his eyes at the warmth and trust that still shone in the dark gaze. He carefully and thoroughly cleaned Chakotay’s skin, stunned anew at the marks of passion he'd wreaked upon the once-pristine surface. He tenderly washed the bruised and scratched back, and was especially gentle lower down, in the cleft, noting the redness of the area. The regenerator had a lot of work to do.

Tom helped Chakotay stand and walked him over to the fireplace. After his lover was settled on some pillows, Tom brought over a large glass of water and a hypospray. He told his companion, "This is an antibiotic and an analgesic. It should prevent infection and ease the pain. I'm going to clean off before I regenerate those wounds, OK?"

Chakotay nodded and gratefully accepted the glass. His throat was sore; he wondered if Tom would have to regenerate *that*, too. He watched the gilt-edged figure of his siren descending into the pool and sighed in appreciation. The long lean back and limbs were beautifully formed, and the tight little ass very appealing. 

Chakotay shook his head and grinned tiredly. Apparently his libido was the only part of him *not* sore and exhausted. He vaguely wondered what Tom would look like in chains. /I would put him on that couch and leave his legs free. Feed him grapes, massage and kiss all that enticingly hairy skin, prepare him for.../ The door slammed shut on *that* line of speculation. It was best to keep his mind on reality.

He went back to watching Tom clean up, simply admiring him once again.

Tom swiftly finished his ablutions, dried off and sprinted back to the fireplace. He almost wrapped a towel around his waist, but changed his mind at the last moment. Chakotay had already spent too much time this evening naked while Tom was clothed. 

First he took the glass back for a refill, stopping to swallow some water of his own. His throat was aching; he wondered if they both needed their vocal cords healed. Then he brought Chakotay's water back, handed it over and settled down on a pillow behind his companion. "I want to get your shoulder and everything back here regenerated first." 

At the nod of the dark head he began to work, scrutinizing the instrument's effects as the vicious bite slowly disappeared, leaving the skin smooth and unmarked once more. He touched it, carefully, making sure the texture was still silky-soft.

As he shifted to work on Chakotay's back, Tom cleared his throat and said seriously, "You can't let Nedal restrain you, Chak. That *must* be one of the five refusals." He shook his head, his eyes unconsciously wandering back to the newly regenerated shoulder. "There's something about the sight of you in chains...it made me want to break you. To prove that I could. To see just how much you could take."

Chakotay sighed and felt the tingle of the regenerator doing its work and the warmth of Tom's concern. He knew that there were a lot of issues to be addressed, but at the moment he didn't have the energy. All he wanted was to stay in the soothing haze of afterglow, enhanced by the easing of his aches and pains as Tom continued to heal him. "There are many lessons to be learned from this, Tom, but I can't talk about them tonight."

He obeyed the hands urging him to lay down on his stomach, and felt the regenerator's vibration between his buttocks. He wriggled a little, tickled by the sensation. He looked over his shoulder to catch his partner's brooding eyes. "I know this was hard for you, Tom, and I'm grateful that you could see it through. But can you wait until tomorrow to discuss it? Right now I'll admit I just want to sleep."

Tom rolled Chakotay over and began working on the gouges in the smooth hips. He decided that *he* needed some time as well, to think about what happened. And what it said about him. "Yeah, I can handle that."

The two men fell silent, listening to the crackling of the many fires in the room. A while later Tom finally finished by double-checking the last job, the chafed wrists. Satisfied that every inch of skin was healed he stood, offering a hand to Chakotay. 

As Chakotay disappeared to brush his teeth and perform his other nightly routines, Tom repacked his equipment and moved his bag into the suite proper. He picked up the Larat outfit carefully and laid it on a settee. Maybe it wasn’t sturdy enough for the refresher. His memories swirled around him once more as he touched the silky gold cloth. 

When Chakotay came out he hurriedly withdrew his hand and darted through the archway, eager to brush the taste of blood fully out of his mouth.

He returned to see his Titan sitting up in bed, glowing darkly against the all-white background. Concern was clear in Chakotay's gaze as he followed Tom's approach and journey under the covers. "Are *you* all right, Tom?" the voice was as soft as the expression in the beautiful eyes.

Tom leaned over and kissed Chakotay. It turned into a gentle, tender reassurance from each man to the other that they had made it through the night intact. They lost track of time as they simply continued the contact, hands rubbing shoulders and lips communicating without words. When they parted, they rested their heads together and just let the peace take hold. 

Then Tom turned Chakotay to lay on his side as he snuggled up to the warm, broad back and ordered the lights dimmed. As he sensed his exhausted lover drift off, Tom continued to stare into the semi-darkness awhile, his eyes riveted to a particular spot on a smooth bronzed shoulder.


	14. Chapter 14

/You are hopeless. Absolutely hopeless,/ Chakotay chided himself as he lay on his side, head propped on one hand, once again watching Tom sleep. 

By all rights he should also be in the arms of Morpheus, still recovering from a mentally and physically exhausting experience. Instead, he had been awake for hours. As if he couldn't bear to waste a precious second of the time he had left with Tom. There would be plenty of opportunity to sleep later. When he was alone.

A tiny smile lifted one corner of his lips as Chakotay’s eyes roamed the now gracelessly sprawled limbs of his sleeping beauty. Chakotay had awakened with the holographic Rutali sun to find Tom wound around him in a pretty successful impression of a human python. It had taken several careful minutes to extricate himself from the tangle and escape the bed.

It had been important to do so. This morning, Chakotay preferred to be dressed before Tom woke. He also wanted to make sure the evidence of yesterday's activities was cleared away. He didn't want anything to cause Tom unnecessary anxiety. 

Once out of earshot he deleted all of the holographic toys and chains in the room, and checked that no bloodstains marred the white marble of the floor leading from the arches to the pool. The food and drinks had been recycled, and he'd also cleaned and packed away his outfit. 

After setting up the breakfast dishes he gave in to temptation and returned to the Regent's bed. And the regal figure taking up a significant amount of it.

It was a bittersweet pleasure, simply watching. Absorbing the rise and fall of Tom’s chest, Tom’s occasional incomprehensible murmur, the way Tom’s features creased into frowns or smiles brought on by the images in dreams, then smoothing out again to peaceful slumber. Knowing this was the last time Chakotay would see Tom Paris, his lover. The beautiful siren who had unknowingly captured him, body and soul.

/If only.../ The thought came with a sigh. So many impossibilities tied up in those two little words. If only he wasn't a day away from becoming an alien's whore. If only he and Tom had come together under different circumstances. If only it wasn't so obvious that Chakotay would never be the type of person Tom preferred to romance. If only Tom didn't have a reputation for amiably dumping people the moment things got serious. If only Tom would trust him. If only Tom loved him.

Wishing wouldn't make it so. Last night, Tom may have seemed like a man staking a claim, with his fierce possession and demanding words. But Chakotay knew better than to take anything said in the heat of passion to heart. He had learned that lesson the hard way, and didn't need an awkward scene with his current companion to reinforce it. No, he wasn't Tom's. Tom wasn't his. And it was time to end the agreement between them and set his siren free.

When their affair had started, Chakotay had wrangled a promise from Tom to stay until Voyager reached the Rutali homeworld. But now Chakotay found he couldn't bear to literally go from Tom's arms to Nedal's. His courtesan training period had forged a deep, but all-too-brief connection with his "Professor", and he didn't want to sully those memories with comparisons to his experiences with the Regent.

So Chakotay needed some time alone to put aside his feelings. He would bury the fires of love and passion, and wait. In time he would discover if spending days away from Tom and immersed in an alien culture would leave the embers still softly glowing, or if they would burn out to cold ash. He wasn't sure which outcome to hope for.

His attention was drawn by the stirring and yawning that accompanied Tom's climb to wakefulness. Chakotay burned one final image onto his brain, then swiftly rose and sat on the side of the bed, pretending to slip on his shoes. As desperately as he wanted to see the first morning-after thoughts reflected in the blue eyes, he couldn't invade the sleep-muddled man's privacy that way. Tom would share as much or as little of himself as he chose. As had been true since the start of their unusual relationship.

***************

Tom frowned at waking alone again, and frowned some more at how disturbed he was by the condition. It wasn't as though he should be accustomed to a body beside him in bed. Before this week, the only other person he'd ever actually spent the night with was Harry. And he'd been pretty restless in his best friend's cabin. Tom had always figured he just couldn't be comfortable unless he was alone. /So much for *that* theory./

He turned his head to see a loosely clothed back. The shoulder was completely hidden. It seemed a frown *was* the appropriate expression for this morning. "You shouldn't have gotten dressed, Chak. I wanted to make sure I didn't miss anything last night." /And maybe gotten the chance to kiss all those hurts better./

He was a little anxious to meet the dark gaze as Chakotay turned. The sense of peace created by last night's gentle kiss had dissipated like a wisp of smoke. Tom's gut twisted at the possibility of seeing fear, disgust, or anger cooling the customary warmth in Chakotay’s eyes. Friendship, and the heat of passion; these were now what he expected from his Titan. He wasn't sure if he could survive the shock if all of it had disappeared. Then Chakotay's hearth-fire glow of gratitude and a quick, dimple-hinting smile set Tom's soul at ease.

"Thank you, but I'm fine. A little sore, but that'll fade soon enough." Chakotay rested one hand on a fine-boned wrist and squeezed gently, trying to communicate reassurance. "Believe me, Tom, everything's all right. *We're* all right. OK?"

"Yeah." Tom started to slide from the bed, his eyes immediately drawn to the blue robe sitting at the foot. The one from the last few days. *Not* the probably torn Rutali garment. He raised an eyebrow as he shrugged into the covering. "You've been busy."

Chakotay had been glad that Tom's outfit from the night before was holographic. He'd have hated to chase down all those fasteners ripped from their threads by the younger man's enthusiasm. "A bit. I've been awake for a while." He stood and gestured to Tom's overnight bag. "Why don't you get dressed and I'll get breakfast ready."

Tom picked up the case and made his way through the archway. Although it seemed that the two men hadn't lost their connection, he sensed a difference in Chakotay's demeanor. It wasn't quite the reserve of a few days ago. Tom couldn't say exactly what changed, but he was sure something had. Until he had a better grasp of the situation though, he'd let things be. Tom hurried through his preparations for the day.

***************

Chakotay fiddled with his napkin and fidgeted in his seat. He half-rose and reached over to shift a small package wrapped in green fabric and white cloth ribbon that sat beside Tom's plate at their cozy table. Satisfied that the object was perfectly placed---again---he resettled. Stared at the arrangements. Considered tweaking the ribbon. And nearly jumped at the scraping sound as Tom pulled out his chair.

"What's under the cover this time, soup?" Tom teased, remembering their last breakfast together. He dropped his eyes to the table and chanced upon the small parcel near his fork. He lifted it, gauging its weight. "What's this?"

/Spirits, will I *ever* stop blushing?/ Chakotay could feel the burning spots on his cheeks. "It's a gift...to thank you for all your help." He smiled nervously and held his breath as long pale fingers loosened the ribbon holding the tiny bundle secure.

Tom focused completely on the carved wooden figurine the second it was revealed. His breath let out in a quiet puff of wonder as he dared to touch a single finger to the miniature bird resting on its background of green. Its eyes reflected alert intelligence and independence, its body poised to leap into the air. A creature who knew the whole of the sky was its domain.

The detail was exquisite, from each feather on the breast and wings to the texture of its talons. Freedom embodied in a work of art smaller than his thumb. "It's beautiful," he said, his voice a reverent whisper as he moved to place the carving in his palm. He lifted his eyes to Chakotay's. "What is it?"

"It's a hawk, and also a promise." He cleared his throat and continued, holding the bright gaze. "I brought some uncut wood back with me from New Earth. A bit of it went to making your totem," he nodded toward the bird. "When I get the time, I'll carve a flute for it to rest upon." He dropped his eyes shyly as his voice muffled with uncertainty. "You seemed very taken with mine the other night. I thought you might appreciate having one of your own."

"Really?" Tom was stunned. It was true, he'd loved the haunting sound of Chakotay's music, and been reluctant to release the wooden reed back to its owner. "I don't know what to say, Chakotay, except thank you." He reached his free hand across the table to rest on a bronzed counterpart. "I would be honored to accept such a gift."

"I'm glad." Chakotay smiled and turned his hand to clasp the pale fingers.

The two men sat silently for a moment, just staring at each other. Then Chakotay withdrew and shrugged. "I'm not sure when I'll be finished it, though."

"Take your time," Tom replied, blinking as if waking up again. He carefully re-wrapped the hawk and moved it out of harm's way. The covered dish soon revealed Belgian waffles with strawberries and cream. "I'm sure going to miss dining with you, Chak," he winked as he dug in.

"I'll miss it too," Chakotay echoed softly.

Something about the wistful undertone alerted Tom. "Of course," he said casually, "we could have dinner together tonight if you like, and breakfast tomorrow." /Even if we're back to eating Talaxian Surprise in the Mess Hall./

"Actually, Tom, I think it's best if we don't." Chakotay looked up from his own meal. "I don't think there's anything else I need to learn." /Or more honestly, considering the extreme acts left in the Rutali book, nothing else I want you to teach me./ 

He made a vague gesture with his fork. "And I have the feeling I'm going to be living in a fishbowl on Ruta, so I'd like to have some privacy before we get there tomorrow."

Tom's protest was instinctive. "But we're supposed to---"

"I know, I'm releasing you from our agreement." Chakotay relaxed, hiding the incipient ache of separation. /There, it's done. Time to move forward./ "Don't worry, I didn't forget that I owe you the story behind my 'beige sacks' as you so charmingly call them. I just hope you're not too disappointed. Remember, I did say it was silly."

"Um, all right then, I guess." The sweetness of the strawberries wasn't enough to cover the tang of disappointment in Tom's mouth. Now *he* felt on edge, the opposite of his calmly eating companion. He hadn't been given any warning. He hadn't even gotten the chance to come to grips with the intensity of their last sexual encounter and now he was being told that it really was their *last* encounter. The affair was over. Just like that.

/Hey, it's no big deal, right? I'm not sure what we would have done for an encore anyway./ At least that's what Tom tried to tell himself. His brows drew together. "Are we going to discuss last night?"

"Yes. I still need to pick my five refusals, as well." Chakotay contemplated his plate. "I figured we could wait until we're done eating to get down to business."

"Sounds like a plan," Tom said lightly as his mind skittered around the sharp edges of his disappointment. /Business, right. Keep your mind on the job, Tommyboy. But my job was fucking Chakotay. Now I'm out of work. Damn, Chak really worked those clothes./ "By the way, your outfit was spectacular." /Nice move, guy. Now you're frustrated *and* horny./ He nearly groaned at his own ill-timed recollections.

Chakotay snorted in disbelief but merely said, "Thanks. I made the best of a bad fashion situation."

"I'm surprised though, most of the other choices looked like they had more material." Tom was genuinely curious, since the amount of skin on display last evening was definitely not his Titan's usual style.

"Yes, but they only looked that way in the book. I tried on quite a few of those outfits in my cabin before bringing that one here. There might not have been much fabric in what I was wearing but at least it was opaque." The dark brows quirked ruefully. "The weave on the others was so open or the threads so thin they were practically transparent. I would have gotten better coverage from a forcefield."

Tom grinned lasciviously, forgetting his troubles for a moment. "Damn. I knew I should have pushed for that second fashion show."

"You didn't have a chance. What you saw was bad enough." Chakotay recalled the fact that Tom wouldn't be the only one seeing him in the scanty Larat outfit. He immediately lost his appetite, abruptly wiping his mouth and standing. "I'm finished. Would you like some coffee or tea?"

"Coffee, please. I'm done here too." Tom sobered also, got up and carefully carried his totem to a table in front of a cream brocade sofa. He settled into a corner and watched Chakotay carry over a tray with cups and accompaniments.

Chakotay set down the beverages and fetched the Rutali book, also laying it on the table. He glanced over at his companion with a slight grin as he lifted his tea. Tom was again perfectly situated for hearing a story. Genuine fondness, as well as love, lifted his spirits once more simply at the sight of his siren. His mood was much improved by the time he took a sip of the just-right blend of strawberry and spices. He indicated the cup. "This was one of my mother's favorite herbal blends. It took me a long time to replicate."

Tom tasted his mug of java. Smooth, warm, rich---the descriptions could be applied to his companion's voice as well as his coffee. He relaxed into the cushions and the conversation. "Was it a secret family recipe?" he teased.

"Something like that." Chakotay smiled softly in reminiscence. "We used to make everything from scratch at my house---I was six or seven before I saw somebody actually using a replicator to produce anything other than raw materials."

He met surprised blue eyes as he continued. "When you're working with home-grown strawberries, they don't turn out the same every time. Sometimes they're really sweet, or they're not quite ripe enough." He chuckled. "Mama used to plant hers in wooden tubs at the end of the yard. You could see the fruits as they matured, nestled against their green leaves. She used to warn us not to filch any. It was a temptation, let me tell you. Only the thoughts of her shortcakes and jams would keep them safe from us kids."

"And of course, the tea." Tom said, enchanted by the image of a young Chakotay's dilemma, dusky fingers hovering over a selection of forbidden treats.

"Yes, the tea. She would dry the berries to concentrate the flavor. And add the spices, matching them to the sweetness of each particular batch." Chakotay took another sip. "So every time I'd finish programming the ingredients into Voyager's system, I'd feel it needed just one more adjustment."

"So how did you finally get it right?" Tom asked, beginning to wish he'd asked for tea as well.

"I didn't. The computer randomly selects one of a handful of different versions." He shrugged, "So I never know exactly what I'll get."

"A good reminder for life." Tom tilted his head. "I bet your mother would be proud of your cooking skills."

"I like to think so. Especially when I'm working from scratch.” Chakotay toyed with a fold of loose cloth. "I didn't always feel that way though." He looked up. "There was a brief time when I didn't dress like this either."

Tom settled in for the tale. "So what is the story?"

"Well, there's a downside to shunning technology. You not only don't use replicators, but you eschew recyclers as well. Which meant nothing was ever wasted. We rarely had anything new. When things broke, they were repaired. My parents never threw anything away until it completely wore out."

Chakotay's eyes twinkled. "That included clothes. As the youngest child in a fairly large family, my entire wardrobe was hand-me-downs." He lifted one arm to demonstrate a loose, swinging sleeve. "And my brothers were always bigger than me. I thought that clothes were *supposed* to hang on you like a sack. Everything I had would be cuffed, or hemmed, but still ended up baggy."

Tom's gaze sharpened with understanding. "So when you left home, that's when you began to wear more tailored styles."

The dark head nodded. "Yep. Especially after I got a look at what everyone else had, and how easy it was to adjust the settings on a replicator. It was during that period that I took up the flamenco."

"What made you go back to this?" Tom's hand indicated the draperies currently swathing Chakotay’s form.

Chakotay cradled the cup between his hands, as if warming them. He sounded a little sad. "For all my enthusiasm, I never felt comfortable in clingy outfits. Not like myself. I started to question if I had done the right thing, turning my back on everything I grew up with. So I started making some changes. Gradual ones. The next thing I knew I was 'flapping about in loose clothes,' to quote you."

His brief glimmer of humor faded. "And when Dorvan fell to the Cardassians, it became a kind of affirmation to myself. That I'm still a member of a people who aren't ashamed of hand-me-downs, and part of a fairly large family." 

His eyes had a faint sheen to them as he looked at Tom. "That my siblings are still alive, and that my brothers are still bigger than me." He looked down into his nearly empty cup, and gave an embarrassed shrug. "I told you it was silly."

Tom reached out to rest his hand on Chakotay's knee. "No, it's not. It's a special story, and I'm glad you shared it with me." He leaned in confidingly, trying to lift his companion's spirits. "And I promise I won't tell the Captain, even if she orders me."

Chakotay flashed him a grateful look and bantered back, "She's too smart for that. She may try to bribe you though." The two men chuckled and finished their drinks.

"You know, Tom, these last few days have been pretty rough on you." Chakotay paused. "If you need to talk with someone, it's OK." 

He admitted, "The Captain knows about us because she was there when I got the offer of Larat, and I told Ken, because I wanted him to keep an eye on Kathryn. But if you'd rather confide in Harry or B'Elanna, you can tell them as much as you need to."

"Thanks, Chak, but I think I'll be all right. You're the one who's dealing with a lot of things for the first time." Tom’s eyes dropped. "Not to mention what happens tomorrow."

Chakotay ignored the reference to things to come. "Well, if you change your mind, remember what I said." He chose a new topic. "Let's talk about the Larat's duties now." He set down his cup and picked up the ornately bound volume, laying it open on his lap. "So, Tom, where would you like to begin?"

"With an apology." Tom leaned forward earnestly. "I didn't mean to hurt you last night, Chak, I just---"

"Don't Tom. There's nothing to be sorry for." Chakotay met Tom halfway, resting one finger on the suddenly stilled lips. "You did everything I needed you to do. I know you didn't mean for things to get so wild. Both of us got carried away."

He dropped his hand and settled back with a lift of brows. "And remember, we were in a holodeck. I could have ended things at any time." His eyes were steady. "I chose not to."

He tilted his chin slightly, a hint of pride. "And I'm not ashamed of either of us. So I'd appreciate it if you stopped acting as if you've done something wrong."

Tom shook his head. He was not only being forgiven, but practically applauded for his actions. "But it was so brutal---"

"No." Chakotay cut him off again, quietly. "No, Tom, you weren't brutal, or cruel. You weren't deliberately trying to humiliate or demean me. As strange as it sounds, you did your best to make sure I felt safe. And I'm grateful. In fact, you made me realize that a lot of what the Larat is expected to do, I can't handle. Because I won't be with you."

"What do you mean, you felt *safe*?" Tom's arm flailed, betraying his bewilderment. "If I had Rutali claws, Chak, I'd have flayed you alive." 

"No you wouldn't. You stopped the moment you thought you did some real damage. And yes, I did feel safe with you. You never lost sight of the fact that for all intents and purposes I couldn't refuse you. I certainly wasn't complaining at the time. Everything is healed. Now, can you just accept that I know what I'm talking about and let this go?" Chakotay felt the first touch of desperation. 

He didn't know how else to persuade Tom, and his heart twisted at the thought of the man he loved beating himself up this way unnecessarily.

Tom realized that his insistence on casting himself as a villain forced Chakotay into the role of victim. And he couldn't ever see the strong man beside him in that way. So he relented, finally accepting what happened as a sexually intense moment between consenting adults. He nodded with a firm "Yes."

Chakotay took a deep breath, relieved. He shifted and looked at the book, trying to bring things back to some semblance of normal conversation. Of course, it wasn't really what he would call a conventional chat. "So, let's talk about the refusals. You've already said that fisting should be on the list."

"And restraints *have* to be." Tom's expression was grave. "Maybe it's true that you weren't in danger with me, but with Nedal...."

"I agree," Chakotay said, nodding. "Fisting, restraints, blindfolds---"

"Blindfolds? I didn't think you were all that affected by that," came Tom’s puzzled interjection.

"For a good reason, Tom. I knew you were with me." Chakotay lifted a hand, palm up. "By your touch, your warmth, your scent, your taste...I didn't need to see you to be comforted, and reassured." He looked away. "I know I won't be able to trust anyone else like that, though."

Tom felt a warmth deep inside at that admission. "Thank you for telling me. You didn't have to."

"It's the truth." /The only one I can share with you./ Chakotay shrugged. "And again considering who I'll be with, I think pain needs to be refused as well. Especially since I doubt Nedal would choose the lightest strap available to administer it."

"Shit, that only leaves one more slot." Tom leaned forward, reading the book upside-down. "What are your options?"

"Well," Chakotay flipped around the gilt-edged pages. "Gags, inserted toys, other toys, cock rings...and all of the sex acts, in each of the depicted positions." His voice and manner had gotten more and more serious as he looked at the pictures and was reminded that he would be bringing them to life tomorrow. But not with Tom.

Tom's thoughts were flowing along the same path. He didn't want to remember his jealousy, or possessiveness of the night past. There was no point. Tom couldn't stop Chakotay from fulfilling his obligations on Ruta as the Larat. He had no right to, especially since he wasn't willing to offer a real relationship as an incentive to stay aboard Voyager.

He deliberately wrenched his mind from the subject, suddenly eager to escape. While a few days ago he was determined to prevent Chakotay from ending their fling before time, now he was grateful for the reprieve. He wanted out, now. He could think about things later. When he was alone. His voice held a push, a touch of impatience. "Go with your gut reaction, then. What causes the most anxiety when you think of it?"

In that instant Chakotay wanted this meeting finished. The memories of Tom were too close to being mixed with images of Nedal as he considered his now ex-lover's query. He closed the book with a decided snap. "I'll need to think before I have an answer to that question. There's plenty of time for me to choose the last refusal, now that you've helped with the other four."

He stood, and noticed how quickly Tom leapt to his feet. A sad mental sigh accompanied the awareness that Tom was as anxious to leave as Chakotay was to evict him. He was touched, though, by the care with which Tom carried his gift.

Chakotay waited a moment while Tom grabbed his overnight bag, then called for the arch and escorted Tom to the holodeck doors. They paused on the threshold.

"I guess this is it then," Tom said. He was looking everywhere except at Chakotay. Tom concentrated on feeling nothing. He was ready to jump to freedom the second the opening appeared.

Chakotay spent a few moments feasting on Tom’s beauty, then captured his lover's lowered chin. When he had Tom's attention, he offered a soft, knowing smile. "Thank you," he whispered, then leaned up for a chaste kiss. Their last.

Tom was surprised into immobility a second, then melted into the lush mouth as he always did. But this time he sensed no passion in the touch of soft lips against his own. Only a kind of finality and farewell. It ended much too quickly.

Chakotay nodded and gently pushed Tom out into the corridor. The portal slid shut and re-locked, and he finally relaxed the tight rein on his emotions. He laid one palm against the door. /Good-bye, my siren,/ he thought, and turned away.

************************************************************

Sisryn started when the door to her office opened to admit Milady. The older woman's expression already answered the question, but the Chief Consul asked anyway. "He wouldn't see you either?"

"No." The older Rutali flopped into one of the visitor chairs and put her feet on Sisryn's desk. "He has apparently left orders not to be disturbed for anything less than a challenge to his reign." She grimaced. "He even had cold meals sent in this morning, so he doesn't have to come out of his cabin to eat."

"How are the prides taking the Regent's seclusion? And do you have *any* idea what he's doing in there?" The confusion was clear in the younger woman's voice.

"So far, Nedal's been a non-issue. People are too focused on the Larat's arrival to concern themselves with a moody ruler." Milady stood and paced a little, frowning. "As for what he's doing...I asked the cub who brought up the food what he saw in the Regent's rooms."

She stopped and looked at Sisryn, eyes grave. "Books. Several of them. All on Rutali law and tradition in regards to the Larat." 

"Oh no," Sisryn breathed. "What do you think Nedal is searching for?"

"I don't know, and that's what worries me." Milady braced her hands on Sisryn's desk. "We have a Larat who has caused a sensation among our people. His...perspective on things has pushed the price of Privilege beyond anything I've seen. But Nedal isn't looking beyond his own wounded pride and thwarted desires. *I* think he's seeking a legal way of harming Chakotay."

"And if he can find a method that doesn't violate the law, I'll have to go along with his plans. It's what I've sworn to do." The Chief Consul gripped her seal, anguish evident in the whitened knuckles. Her miserable eyes met Milady's. "All we can do is hope the refusals will keep the Regent in check."

"Yes. Although I doubt the Celestials had Nedal in mind when they created the tradition." She sighed. "Otherwise the Larat would have twenty, instead of just five."

The two women stared tensely at each other, knowing that the Regent would make his move soon enough. 

************************************************************

"So where's Tom? I thought he was meeting us for dinner." B'Elanna twirled her pasta with a fork.

"He was supposed to, but canceled at the last minute." Harry's brow creased in concern. "It's weird. He sounded really anxious to do something tonight. It was almost like he had no idea how to spend his time, now that he was done helping Chakotay with his project."

A dozen questions crowded behind B'Elanna's lips, but she simply chewed and swallowed them with her next bite of food. She'd made a promise not to pry into Chakotay's business, so she wouldn't. No matter how frustrated she got. "Maybe I should invite Helmboy to a bat'leth match. If he has excess energy to work off, that'll do it."

"Maybe. I can't figure him out. I heard he spent his day off wandering the ship. I got the impression he didn't want to be alone. Now all of a sudden he's incommunicado and doesn't want to be disturbed." Harry shook his head. "I'll be glad when we're through the wormhole. Maybe then things can get back to normal."

"You just want to be sure that Rutali Regent can't sneak up on you again," B'Elanna teased, then sobered. "I'm a little worried about Chakotay, though, alone on that planet for who knows how long."

Harry laid one hand over his companion's. "I'm sure the Commander will be fine. Nedal may not like him, but those ladies seem to. And it won't be more than a month. Probably much less."

B'Elanna flashed him a grateful smile, but simply said, "I hope you're right, Harry. I truly do."

Neither of them noticed the eavesdropper who swiftly left the Mess Hall.

***************

Tom stared at the wooden bird in his palm, his still body a counterpoint to his whirling thoughts. He had spent the day in the opposite condition, constantly on the move throughout Voyager as he avoided thinking about the events of the last few days. But just as he was setting out for an evening with Harry, he'd caught sight of Chakotay's gift, sitting on his table loosely wrapped.

In a daze, he commed his friend and called off their plans. Then he'd settled on the sofa and uncovered the tiny figurine. Touching the bird had brought memories of the hands that carved it, and images of the bronzed skin led to other thoughts. He sighed and admitted defeat. Despite his best efforts at distraction and his days-old avowal to Chakotay, it looked like he would *not* simply be going back to his life. There were too many emotions that refused to be suppressed.

/But how, exactly, do I feel about Chakotay?/ That question was too big; he couldn't make any sense of the maelstrom in his soul. Desire, joy, pain, anxiety---all of them emerging and blending back into the swirl so quickly he couldn't grasp just one to examine its causes and consequences.

He took a deep breath and tried again. /OK. Let's go back. What's changed?/ He thought he'd settled things in his mind that night he ended up surprising Chakotay at the fountain. He feared the intimacy that Chakotay offered, so he would avoid emotional entanglements but reap the physical rewards of their affair. /Well, that *was* the plan./

Then Chakotay had revealed his own insecurities, and Tom had abandoned his agenda in order to provide reassurance. Their joining that night was emblazoned on his memory, tenderness and passion entwined like the clasp of their hands. Tom’s eyes closed a moment, overwhelmed. /All right, so he's like no other lover I've ever had. But that doesn't *mean* anything./

Then the fight. The nebulous fears Tom had for his own soul paled in the face of the real danger Chakotay had been in. The sight of blood staining his lover's sleeve had sent his heart leaping into his throat and he'd only prevented his body from following by clutching his seat in a death grip. It had been a telling moment, one that still sent a chill down his spine. 

/OK, so I didn't want Chakotay to get hurt. Not surprising, considering we've been friends and colleagues for years as well as temporary bedmates./ He knew how hollow that dismissal sounded, but decided it was good enough and moved on.

Which brought him to last night's arousing, alarming encounter. Tom had never felt possessive of his lovers; they simply weren't important enough for him to care. He had never been particularly rough either, with women or men. Tom shook his head as he recalled what he had done to Chakotay in the throes of passion. 

At the desire that had burned hotter as each chain was secured and each piece of clothing removed. At the surge of satisfaction he'd felt at each mark he'd bestowed that proved Chakotay was *his*. Even before he'd stepped on the holodeck last night he'd been filled with anger and jealousy, backed by the utter certainty of his claim on his Titan.

But that was a lie, born out of the fantasy world the two men had crafted in the last week. Even if Chakotay had accepted the touch of violence as simply an extension of their passion, Tom was still disturbed. Because he had reveled in the knowledge that Chakotay was his to take, his to have, his to keep.

And the fact was that Tom still wanted Chakotay. At his side, teasing and talking; in his arms, kissing and caressing; in his bed, meeting and merging. But he wanted more than just to own the beautiful body. He wanted the wise mind, warm heart, compassionate soul. Yes, while he may never speak the words, Tom loved Chakotay.

But not enough. Not enough to risk losing himself in the other man. To chance the surrender of his essence to another person, the way his mother had given up her very spirit to Owen.

The conflict between these truths was the source of Tom's current confusion and discomfort. Because there was a now-constant tug of war in his mind and heart. Love, drawing him toward the man who inflamed his senses and stirred his emotions. And fear, soul-deep and years old burning along his nerves, urging him to stay as far away from Chakotay as possible.

Tom unconsciously clenched his hands, and felt the press of the carving in his palm. He hurriedly checked it for damage, and carefully set the hawk down. This morning had brought the clashing feelings to a new level. He'd been drawn more powerfully than ever to Chakotay during most of their conversation, but ended up repelled by the frank discussion of Chakotay's coming tenure with Nedal.

He'd fled the holodeck, glad that Chakotay had made the decision to end their agreement a day early. Tom figured he escaped just in time, while he could still put all these disruptive feelings behind him. Chakotay was right; he wasn't Tom's type. He was too powerful, too overwhelming, too dangerous to Tom's carefully constructed rules for living. It was best to go forward and just think of their relationship as a few sessions of great sex.

And what he was feeling now wasn't despair at missing his chance at love because of his own cowardice. It wasn't. He was really filled with relief, that he had avoided love's trap, whole and intact. /What a crock./ Tom curled up on his couch and tried to quiet his disbelieving mind. And aching heart.

***************

Ken rang the chime again and considered comming Kathryn for an override. Finally the door opened and he entered a darkened cabin. "Paris?" he called, peering through the gloom.

"Wha---Dalby? I thought you were Harry." Tom was sitting up, scrubbing his face. His eyes narrowed warily. "Just what can I do for you?"

Ken took a chair without permission. "Tell me that you're perfectly fine about the 'help' you gave Chakotay, and I'll be merrily on my way."

"What are you talking about?" Tom asked, tensing.

"Well, I'm sure the Chief told you that I know the truth about his being the Larat and what it entails. He asked me to look after Kathryn so he wouldn't have to worry about her. He's going to be under a lot of pressure down on the planet," Ken shook his head at his own understatement, "so I'm making sure he won't need to be stressing about you, either."

Tom hoped he looked nonchalant and calm on the surface, even if his emotions were still in a turmoil. "You can set your mind at ease, Dalby. Chakotay and I had a few good times together, but now it's over and I'm ready to move on."

Ken snorted. "Bullshit."

Blond brows rose. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me. I happened to catch an interesting conversation in the Mess Hall just now. You've apparently been flitting all over the ship like a hopped-up social butterfly. And that was your plan for the evening, too, until you decided to play hermit at the last minute. Neither role suits you, Paris, so why don't you just come clean. What's bothering you?" Ken’s eyes narrowed. "Chakotay kicked you out a day ahead of schedule. Why, did you play too rough?"

Tom felt himself flush at the partial truth. "Not that it's any of your business, but Chakotay wanted some privacy before he had to beam down to the Regent's palace. It had nothing to do with...anything we did together."

"OK, so the Chief is fine and just wanted some time alone. Why are *you* here hiding in your cabin? That's not your usual reaction to the end of one of your flings."

"Look, it's no big deal, I just wanted to be by myself for a little while." /You're crazy if you think I'm having a heart-to-heart with you./ "I'm just a little tired and decided to have an early night."

"Yeah, right, tell me another one." Ken moved to put his boots on the table, and nearly fell off his chair when his feet were violently shoved away. He watched in surprise as Tom snatched a tiny object from the low surface, cradling it protectively as he raised the lights. "What's that?"

"None of your business, Dalby. Now get out." Tom reflexively examined the carving, making sure it hadn't been damaged.

Keen eyes caught a glimpse of wood carefully clutched in Tom’s fingers. /So, that's the way it is./ The ex-Maquis absorbed the new information and what it implied. Ken looked at the defensive man glaring down at him, pondering. Now that he knew to look he could see the hints of emotion, of conflict. 

/It would be ironic, that's for sure. Still...Chakotay deserves to be happy. If Paris is the one to do that, then so be it./ He frowned, thinking of what his former Captain would be facing in Nedal's bed, and he once more stared at Tom. /I just hope you're strong enough to handle all of this./

"I think I've been reading this situation all wrong." Ken's voice was quiet. "You're more than upset because things between you and Chakotay ended early. You didn't want them to end at all."

"That's ridiculous," Tom said, moving to place the hawk safely on a shelf. He focused on it, willing indignation into his voice. "Chakotay and I agreed that the affair was only temporary. So Nedal would have a seasoned Larat and Voyager could get farther through the wormhole."

"And I bet you experienced a lot of things while you were with the Chief." Ken spoke slowly, feeling his way. "Maybe emotions you never had before. Maybe they scared you, but now all you can do is wish you were still with him." His eyes sought Tom’s. "That you could be honest with him. And with yourself."

Tom swallowed. He barely managed to respond, "Even if that's true, it doesn't matter. Chakotay would want a relationship. Of equals. And I can't give him that because...well, it's too complicated to explain. Just that even if I wanted to, there's no way I could love him." 

He shrugged. "Besides, Chakotay is going to be staying with the Regent. Whatever we had was going to be over then, anyway."

"Not if you don't want it to be, and have the courage to admit it. But you have to act before we get to the planet. Otherwise, Chakotay will probably think you just feel sorry for what he went through. But you still have tonight.” Ken paused. “You should make it count."

Ken nearly growled at the dismissive shrug that was Tom's only reply. He took a deep breath and sought patience and wisdom. He found it in thoughts of Kathryn, and the love they shared. And how he had come to be dining with her one special night under an alien moon.

"You know," Ken began reflectively, successfully putting his feet on the table this time, "I used to be a lot like you. Angry, afraid. It was safer not to feel anything for people because I had already lost everyone, everything, to the Cardassians. Except my pain. I spent a lot of lonely years that way."

Tom didn't want to know the answer, but felt compelled to ask. "What changed your mind? The Captain?"

"No, Chakotay." Ken wasn't looking at Tom anymore, but at his own past. "He'd lost his fiancée, then a few years later his father. His homeworld. Maybe his entire family. Yes, he was hurt and angry. But he never hid from that pain, or let it change him. He still reached out to people. Still took the risk that came with caring."

A sigh accompanied the next uncomfortable admission. "At first, I thought that made Chakotay a sap. I mean, he was reserved a lot of the time, and he's always been low-key. But not when it's the deep feelings, the important ones. He grieved when we lost people. Ached for the refugees we couldn't help. Gradually I realized that he was stronger for it. A better captain, a better man. And because he was willing to put himself on the line, he earned the respect and loyalty of some of the toughest men and women I've ever met. Including me."

There was a moment of quiet, then Dalby continued. "Chakotay teaches by example more than any other person I've ever known. And he isn't even aware of it. He just...lives. The best way he knows how. And by having the courage to be himself, he shows you how to find that strength too."

Ken dropped his eyes to his folded hands. "It took me a long time to learn those lessons, though, to take the chance of being a whole person again. One who trusted, hoped, risked. One who loved."

He looked at Tom again. "I don't know how Chakotay feels about you, what you feel or what's holding you back. But I can tell you this. The Chief will never lie to you, and if he does love you, then you will be the most important thing in his life. He'll give you everything, he never holds back. But you have to let him know you want it. Because he'll never force himself on anyone. Especially if he thinks there's no hope." He fell silent.

/Could Chakotay love me? Do I want him to? Can I love him?/ Tom considered Dalby's words, and his own experiences with Chakotay. From the first day Chakotay had done everything he could to put Tom at ease. Despite his stoic reputation, he'd been open in sharing his worries and feelings. Chakotay had agreed to every act of passion between them. But it was more than that. Tom closed his eyes, letting the memories wash over him. 

Lips, soft and bestowing pleasure. Hands, caressing and gentle, speaking without words. Communicating wonder, gratitude, acceptance, joy. And always, with every touch and movement, Chakotay showed his trust. In Tom...and in himself. 

Tom’s eyes snapped open. He chewed his lip, brows furrowing in concentration. Dalby was right. Even as he absorbed lessons on sex from his "Professor", Chakotay had been teaching Tom about emotional connection. Unfortunately, his student wasn't so bright.

Tom had been completely oblivious, but now he saw their time together with new eyes. Chakotay hadn't been hiding his reactions, or faking anything. He'd been scared, uncertain, annoyed, hurt...honest. His words, his expressions, his reactions, everything plain to see.

And yet, even in this vulnerability he was still the strong man he had always been. Chakotay was a generous lover, but not a passive one. He was giving, and accepting, but always by his own choice. Even in a situation where circumstances dictated his total submission, Chakotay had held his own. He had *permitted* the chains, and the pain. He acknowledged them as a facet of passion, unashamed.

But there was more. Chakotay had put his trust in Tom from day one and never wavered. He'd offered his virginity, shared parts of himself no one on Voyager had ever seen, been open to anything and everything Tom chose for them. Even when Tom doubted himself, Chakotay never did.

Tom remembered what he now saw as the moment of revelation. When Tom was going to end their sexual games, guilty over his actions, Chakotay had taken control. He pulled that bracket from the column, revealing that the chains had never truly restrained him. Grabbed Tom and demonstrated that Chakotay could also be dominant and forceful in passion. But then...he gave control back to Tom. After making his point, Chakotay chained himself back up. But even then, he was still Tom's equal.

Chakotay didn't submit, he trusted. Without sacrificing one iota of his being, or spirit, he placed himself entirely in Tom's keeping.

Understanding filled Tom, bringing calm. He respected, admired, lusted after, and especially, loved Chakotay. Tom *knew* Chakotay, as a colleague, a friend, and now a lover. Ken was right; Chakotay may be self-contained, but he didn't hide his feelings when they counted. Tom could do no less.

Tom swiftly crossed to his computer terminal and opened a comm link.

Soon the Captain's curious face filled the screen. Her eyes widened as she caught sight of Ken in the background of Tom's cabin. "What can I do for you, Tom?"

"I know that Chakotay has put a privacy lock on the holodeck. I need you to override it."

Kathryn’s brows rose. "Why not just wait to talk to him tomorrow? He'll have a little time in the morning before beaming down to the planet."

"No, it has to be tonight. Now." Tom's agitation was beginning to show.

"What's so all-fired important? After all, you had breakfast with Chakotay.” Keen eyes focused on Tom. “What could have possibly changed between then and now that the Commander needs to know about?"

"Me...him...everything. Please, Captain, it's important," Tom begged. "Chakotay's handing himself over to Nedal tomorrow, and I *have* to talk to him before then."

"Why not just comm him?" Kathryn was ruthlessly quashing down her romantic hopes. She had to be sure of Tom's sincerity. Chakotay deserved no less.

"You know why, what's been going on between us. I need to *see* him---and get something from his cabin first." Tom's forehead creased and his hands clenched with urgency. "Something I need to convince him that I'm serious. About us. About him. I'm only going to get one chance at this. I have to do it right." 

He swallowed and his voice dropped. "I don't think I can live with myself anymore if I don't," he whispered.

It was the whisper that decided her. That, and the naked need in her usually carefree pilot's face. "All right. I'll let you into Chakotay's cabin and override his holodeck lockout." Her expression softened as her eyes misted. "Good luck. To both of you."

"Thank you." Tom's reply was fervent. He closed the link and stood, turning a moment to look at Ken. "And thank you."

"You're welcome." Ken gave him a small smile. "And I hope things turn out the way you want. Just remember how lucky you are, Paris. Love is a precious gift, and Chakotay is a rare man." 

He made his way to the exit, pausing on the threshold to toss over his shoulder, "Though Kathryn has always thought you were something special too. Never could see it myself." With a wink he was gone.

Tom shook his head, took a last calming breath and followed.

************************************************************

The thunk of the holodeck doors shutting had a sense of finality that twanged Tom's already taut nerves. He swiftly changed clothes, dropping his belongings where he stood. When he finished, he smoothed the gold mesh over his thighs. /Now I know what Chakotay was talking about./

Tom had swiftly reached the First Officer's cabin, and almost immediately spied the discarded Larat outfits glistening on the back of a chair. He'd grabbed one at random and stuffed it in his repacked overnight bag, then sprinted to the holodeck. He was relieved when the doors opened for him, and surprised to be at the edge of the courtyard. Again the trees and plants blocked his view, but also afforded some privacy as he changed. Both his wardrobe and, sadly, his intent.

He didn't know whether to be proud of the fact he had made it to this point physically or ashamed of his emotional backpedaling. Tom was here to offer Chakotay his body, not his heart. Somewhere between Chakotay's cabin and the holodeck Tom's confidence had faltered. 

Maybe it was Chakotay's few family photos that brought up thoughts of Tom's own mother. And her absolute surrender to the man she loved. The old fear that Tom would do the same had reared up. He quailed at the enormity of the gamble he was about to take. He'd managed to fight back the fear, but only gained a partial victory.

Tom admitted to himself that he would not be able to tell Chakotay of his love. His soul wasn't ready for that level of trust. But Tom had decided to take the first step toward a real relationship with his Titan. He would make them sexual equals by giving Chakotay his virgin ass. A kind of bodily quid pro quo.

It was also a test of how far Chakotay would take control, since Tom's dread at becoming submissive was equaled by a concern that his partner would be too dominating. Chakotay, at least in his public persona, was always a take-charge kind of guy. But if he had the opportunity, would he also give orders when they were alone? Tom figured that if Chakotay treated Tom’s body with respect and gentleness, he could trust his heart and soul to those bronzed hands as well. 

Somehow the "ultimate boundary" in his mind had shifted. He no longer feared the physical vulnerability so much, but the emotional was still too frightening to overcome.

With one last twitch of the barely-there cloth, Tom stepped around the greenery, searching for his Titan. His face softened when he discovered Chakotay curled up on his side in the grass, sound asleep.

He walked over and knelt beside the oblivious figure, his eyes caressing. He reached out one hand to stroke through the silky dark hair, trace the tattoo. His attention was caught by the fluttering eyelids, and then he met befuddled brown eyes.

"Tom?" Chakotay wondered if he was dreaming. He'd spent the day in the courtyard setting, trying to come to grips with his very near future as the Larat. He'd grieved for a while, missing his siren's bright wit and smoky seduction, but eventually he'd managed some measure of peace. 

His missed hours of sleep eventually caught up with him, and he'd settled down for a nap, enjoying the fresh scent and texture of the grass. It invoked memories of Dorvan fields.

At first his bewildered brain had assumed the grass was somehow responsible when he'd felt the light brushes on his head and brow. But eventually the warmth and familiarity of the touch had sunk in. He searched the nervous face above him, trying to understand what was going on. Then his eyes moved lower, and opened wide in shock. Arousal immediately followed.

Tom was dressed in a Larat outfit, one of the rejected ensembles Chakotay had left in his cabin. Two lengths of fine gold fabric fell from crystal buttons at the shoulders, one panel down the front and the other covering the back, fashioning a type of loose sleeveless tunic that ended below the knee. The pieces were held in place by more buttons at each hip.

But the material was more like net than cloth, wreathing the younger man's pale form in a golden mist. Glints of his chest hair showed easily. His quiescent cock and balls could be glimpsed in the shadowed triangle at the top of his thighs.

Confused and wary, Chakotay slid out from under the stroking hand and stood, backing away from the kneeling figure. "What are you doing here, Tom?"

"I'm here to ask you...if you want me." Tom's voice was tremulous and he couldn't meet Chakotay’s eyes.

"Why are you dressed like that?" Chakotay chose not to respond to Tom’s comment, grateful his own loose clothing hid his response to the seductive vision.

"Because I wanted you to see what I was offering." Tom stood, holding his hands out from his sides. "All that you see is yours for the taking." His chin titled as he deliberately chose his final words.

"So I'm to have my very own Larat." Chakotay's voice was neutral, stating a fact. He resisted the urge to walk around Tom, to get the entire view. 

His eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Until now you've been very clear about what was allowed and what wasn't, and your ass was never part of the negotiations. Any particular reason you've decided to find out how the other half lives?"

Tom dropped his hands, twisting them together. He didn't want love to enter the picture, so what else could he use? "It just...felt right. After everything we did together, I thought this would...balance things out."

Anger sparked in Chakotay's gut. "Thanks, but no thanks. I'm not interested in a sex slave, no matter how willing. I never asked you for this when we were together, so I'd hardly accept it now. Especially as a sort of weird delayed penance for yesterday."

"That is *not* the reason I'm here." Tom's frustration gritted his teeth. "I just thought you needed some more experience before you took up your duties."

"I don't believe you." Chakotay stared at the set jaw and defiant expression, then raked his eyes up and down the long body. "For days, you tense up every time my hands stray, and now suddenly you decide that you want my dick up your ass. So what is this really, some kind of pity fuck?"

He strode over to Tom, invading the younger man's space. Close up, Tom could sense confusion and hurt hiding behind the anger. They also underlay the sharp words coming from Chakotay’s thinned lips. "I really thought you were OK with things this morning, Tom. What did you do, have another attack of conscience? Or maybe you were calculating how many times Nedal can fuck me in a week, much less a month. Maybe you thought I could use some pre-ordeal comfort so I remember I'm a man? You offer yourself as what, a virgin sacrifice? Well get over it already."

/Shit. I never figured he'd say no./ This was unacceptable. Tom decided to go on the attack, one hand swiftly reaching out to cover Chakotay's burgeoning erection. He used his other hand to yank the dark head close to his own. "What does it matter why I'm here?"

He squeezed, earning him a growl from Chakotay. "You're not going to convince me that you don't want me, Chakotay. You like what you see, and I bet you've been thinking about topping me from day one." 

He leaned in and licked under one ear, nipping the lobe and then moving up to whisper, "Now's your chance. I'm giving you carte blanche. Fuck me."

Chakotay wrenched himself out of the too-tempting embrace and stalked to a spot near the fountain. His eyes were burning with anger and desire as he looked at Tom once more. It was getting more difficult to ignore his siren's seductive tones and delectable body. Apparently his to do with as he pleased.

But one thing held Chakotay back. He loved Tom. No matter how futile the emotion was in the face of reality. He had accepted the facts, and proved strong enough to let Tom go to find someone truly compatible with the younger man's wild and carefree spirit.

But if Chakotay took this final step, he knew one time would never satisfy him. He'd want to keep Tom forever anchored to his side. Bound to him. And that wasn't the kind of lover he wanted to be. So he'd forgo the temporary pleasure to avoid inflicting lasting pain.

Of course, he also was only human. He made sure to keep his distance and averted his eyes as he spoke. "You know I'm not into one-night stands. So I'd really appreciate it if you'd leave. Now."

"Damn it, this is *not* a one-night stand! We've been going at each other like crazy for days now. So either fuck me or stop lying to me, because I am getting tired of this shit." Tom's anger at Chakotay's rejection had finally overwhelmed his fears. He lunged again, but this time his quarry evaded him.

Both men were breathing heavily as they circled each other, practically snarling. Painfully aware of how quickly the situation had deteriorated between them.

"Just accept the fact that this is not going to happen and get the hell out of here!" Chakotay's voice rose in desperation. He was ready to flee himself. He balled his hands into fists, trying to stop his fingers from reaching to feel all that tempting skin just a few steps away.

"Not until you tell me why, why can't you do this?" Tom was yelling now, his feelings so riled and raw his whole body was shaking with them.

"Because I love you!" The shout shocked both men, who simply stared at each other as the echoes faded. 

Chakotay closed his eyes a moment, then continued more quietly. "And it has been tearing me apart to lose even this...whatever it is we had. To never feel the touch of my lover again."

Chakotay swallowed. "And now you want me to take you...join with you---just once---and then walk away? I can't do that." His hands lifted helplessly. "I don't have that kind of strength. So please...please, just leave, Tom."

"What makes you think it would be just once?" Tom straightened, settled. "Because you're not my type?"

The question rasped along Chakotay's frayed nerves, sharpening his response. "Yes, because I'm nothing like the people you choose to be with. And in all the time we were together you never really trusted me. Not to mention that I'm about to become some alien's fuck toy---for a price." 

Suddenly all the fight went out of him. "But mostly because you always end your relationships, Tom. Always."

Tom stepped forward and stared into the deep, soulful eyes. He framed the beautiful face, stroking the high cheekbones with his thumbs. The revelation that this noble, wonderful man loved him so completely kindled a bonfire in him. It burned away all his self-doubts, all his fears. As if he'd tossed away all the lifelong barriers to his heart like so much trash to be consumed in the blaze. 

As the feeling swept through him, Tom wanted to laugh and dance around the room with the man in his arms, shouting that he was no longer afraid. Prometheus had finally brought the divine fire to mortal man. Beautiful and eternal, the flame was love.

But first he had to convince his Titan. Praying that the words would be enough, Tom opened his mind, his heart, his soul, hoping the truth would shine forth. "I don't have types anymore, Chakotay, just you. Only you, always you. And I don't care what you have to do as the Larat, to keep your word and to help our friends get closer to home."

His hands gripped a little more desperately as he saw uncertain hope flicker in the dark gaze. "Fucking Nedal won't mean anything because your heart won't be in it. It will be with me, the way mine will be with you. I love you, Chakotay, and I want us to be together. Tonight, tomorrow...and when you get back from Ruta, for the rest of our lives."

Tom looked down a moment, then gathered his courage to burn his last bridge. "You're right, I've always ended my affairs. Before they ever got this serious. Because I didn't want to take the risk of getting hurt. My---my family taught me that being in love makes you less than who you are alone. That if I let someone into my heart, I would lose my soul."

He shifted so one long finger kept the automatic protest behind Chakotay’s full lips. "I know, that's not the way love's supposed to be. It's supposed to be giving and cherishing. Sharing and building so lovers are stronger together. *You* taught me the truth of that, Chak."

Tom trembled a little, but kept going. "Every moment we've shared you showed me that you loved me. Every time we talked, touched, everything we've done together. That you let me do to you."

Tom shook his head, face full of wonder. "And you were always yourself. You didn't give up any part of your mind or heart or soul. You just made room in them for me. You...trusted me."

His gaze turned pleading, "I'm begging you, Chakotay, believe that I love you too. Trust me, one more time." He held his breath, waiting.

Chakotay kissed him.


	15. Chapter 15

/This is hopeless. Absolutely hopeless./ Kathryn felt the brush of Ken's chest hair against her breasts as she lay on top of his supine body on their bed. Her eyes narrowed in speculation. "You're not going to say anything about it, are you?"

Ken grinned and tenderly stroked his fingertip along the lines frowning on his beloved's face. "Nope."

"But you have to!" For a moment the mature captain of a Federation starship looked like an outraged five-year-old. Her bottom lip formed an impressive pout as small but formidable fists pressed into Ken's shoulders as she loomed over him. "I've been waiting patiently all evening. What *happened*? This morning Tom Paris is his typical Flyboy self and the next thing I know he's begging me to break protocols so he can prove himself to Chakotay. This is driving me crazy, not knowing."

"Maybe, but you're so beautiful when you're angry." Ken grabbed the unconsciously proffered lip in his teeth, lightly nibbling. He began stroking the soft pale skin of Kathryn's back. He felt the hands on his shoulders relax and start wandering his chest. But one look at the half-closed blue-gray eyes told him he wasn't off the hook yet.

"I'm not angry, just interested." The low voice was a husky purr as Kathryn changed tactics. She initiated a full kiss, hot and deep and wet, as her fingers began exploring more of her lover's form. She could feel Ken's groans of appreciation, the vibrations of his chest stimulating her nipples to hard points of excitement. 

She rubbed them against his warm flesh, rough hair over soft skin, moaning a little herself. Then she lifted her head, gave a wicked grin and looked into dilated hazel eyes.

"I have ways of making you talk, you know." One slender hand wandered south to demonstrate a favorite method of loving torture, teasing Ken's erection to greater fullness and length. She rocked her own center of pleasure against a strong thigh.

Ken groaned and thrust his hips. "You certainly do. Maybe that's why I haven't said anything yet." He gazed once more at the lovely woman braced on top of his body, and his expression softened with the evening's reminder of how precious she was to him. 

He lifted one hand to cradle her cheek, all teasing gone. "I'm not sure what's going on with Tom or Chakotay. I know what I hope for, but that's all."

Kathryn leaned into the touch, her expression serious now as well. She saw the love shining openly in Ken's face. It brought a lump to her throat, that such a private, proud man would reveal himself so. She leaned down and the two drew together for another kiss, this one brief but tender. Kathryn turned her head and ran her lips along Ken's palm. 

Then she looked at him, her eyes glowing with emotion. After a moment she drew back with a teasing smile. "And we *are* hoping for the same thing, right?"

Ken chuckled and shook his head in disbelief. "The Chief and Tom Paris? That's not a Maquis-Starfleet pairing I'd have ever come up with."

"You mean you don't think they have a chance?" Kathryn rested her chin on her hand, brows drawn, concerned.

"Honestly, I don't know." Ken looked at his lover, worry clear. "Chakotay never gave any indication of being bisexual before now, but when it comes to love he's never cared too much about the packaging. If he gives his heart to Tom it will be for good."

She rose up in protest. "So you think Tom is going to hurt *him*? But I was sure---"

"Easy, love, easy." Ken soothed his agitated lady, drawing her down again to lie on his chest. "That's not what I said. For some reason, Tom had a problem with the idea of loving Chakotay, but he got over it. I just hope his feelings are strong enough to survive the Regent. That Tom can accept what Chakotay has promised to do."

Ken looked into Kathryn's face, "Believe me, it's not an easy thing to come to grips with, the idea that you love someone enough to let them cheat on you." He sighed, then gave an embarrassed little smile and shrug. "But it seems I've become a hopeless optimist. I'd like to see a happy ending to all this, to find that love will prevail."

"A hopeless romantic, I think," Kathryn said, moving up again to brush noses. "I knew there was a reason I loved you."

"Just one? Let me remind you of a few more," Ken said as he embraced his soulmate, rolled them over, and declared his feelings without words.

***************

Tom had lost track of time and space and place. Nothing existed except the body before him and the lips on his own. He was lost in the sensations, overwhelmed but unafraid. 

He hadn't known what to expect as he'd waited, shaking, for Chakotay to respond to his speech. Another rejection was still possible, given Chakotay's determination to remain aloof. He'd hoped for acceptance, perhaps being yanked into the strong arms and claimed with an intensity to match their argument. But what he'd gotten was so much more.

This kiss was like no other from his Titan, or anyone else in Tom’s life. Soft lips caressed his own, starting at one corner of his mouth, slowly traveling across to the other, leaving tingling, yearning nerves in their wake. Then the very tip of Chakotay's tongue made the same journey, outlining Tom's lips, filling in the contours with delicate brushes. When the painting was complete the mouth closed and resumed its gentle pressure, fervently but chastely fusing with his own.

While Tom's hands had fallen to clutch broad shoulders, Chakotay's had moved up to rest along Tom's jaw. The delicacy of the touch, not imprisoning but so tenderly cradling, pressed tears behind Tom's closed lids. He could *feel* Chakotay's love, offered but not forced upon him, surrounding him with warmth the way the broad palms transferred their heat to his own skin. 

The profound but simple contact lasted forever and not nearly long enough. Eventually Chakotay’s lips drew away. Tom resisted the urge to follow and instead opened his eyes. He gasped.

Chakotay glowed with emotion. Sentiments that Tom had only glimpsed hints of before were now shining forth in all their glory. The single tear that flowed from the dark eyes in no way quenched the fire burning within them. Serenity provided a background for newly kindled hope and joy. Maturity and wisdom nurtured the feelings, promising a lasting passion instead of the brief, white-hot and gone urges of more shallow souls. And the love...the love was so clear and true and real. Tom knew that it existed only, and always, for him. He swallowed, unable to speak.

Chakotay stared into blue eyes that were wide with a kind of stunned wonder. Tom's face was the most beautiful sight in the whole of his life. The gold of his beloved's hair and brows glistened in the light. His handsome features were softened with emotions Chakotay never expected to see. Their gentle influence smoothed the faint lines that the cynicism of years past had etched onto the pale skin. 

Tom seemed incapable of more than quick, panting sighs. The Flyboy mask had disappeared, burned away by feelings so clear and overwhelming that Chakotay shivered with awe. He met Tom's eyes, to be drawn into the tear-washed windows to a soul filled with love.

Chakotay's own smile was a little unsteady as he said clearly but quietly, "I love you, Tom. And I'm sorry."

"For what?" Tom found that with effort, he could whisper.

"For yelling at you. Rejecting you. For doubting your motives." Chakotay sighed and frowned a little. "For making my first declaration of love an angry shout. I just couldn't---couldn't bear to think---"

"You were right," Tom interrupted, dropping his gaze as he admitted the truth. "I planned to tell you everything, but when I got here I...panicked."

Chakotay shook his head and leaned in to catch the guilty eyes. "But you came through when it counted." His voice reflected his amazement. "And despite your fears, that you could love me---and tell me so...that's a gift I dreamed of but couldn't let myself hope for, Tom. One that I will treasure for the rest of my days."

His expression clouded a little with uncertainty as he reached to enfold Tom's hands. He opened his mouth to speak, then changed his mind, turned and drew Tom behind him.

Tom smiled as he trailed in Chakotay's wake. Chakotay had immediately headed toward the fountain, paused, looked over his shoulder at Tom's outfit and steered them over to a padded bench. Tom knew his barely-clad bottom would appreciate the change of venue, while his heart was touched at the sign of Chakotay's concern for his comfort. They sat, still holding hands.

Chakotay cleared his throat. Every cell of his being rebelled at taking the chance of losing Tom, but he had to be sure of this before they moved forward. He needed to hear the words. There was simply too much at stake. "I *do* trust you. And I believe you. But are you sure you want a relationship with me *now*, Tom?" 

The dark brown eyes were worried. "I don't know what's going to happen with Nedal. Or how I'll react. I---I might not be the same person when it's all over. Maybe we should wait---"

"No." Tom’s response was quiet but emphatic. "I know why you're asking, Chak, but I meant what I said. I love you. Nothing that happens on Ruta will change the way I feel about you. I'm certain the same will be true for you. And I want our life together to start tonight." 

Tom took a deep breath. "I want you to take me."

"No." Chakotay stopped Tom's protest with a squeeze of his hands. "Not unless it's for the right reasons." He looked down, stroked his index finger along the strong, narrow line of Tom's knuckles. "In my mind, I used your...unwillingness to reciprocate as proof that you didn't care about me, Tom. It was a litmus test of your trust in me. And I decided that you failed every time you tensed up at a wayward touch."

He bit his lip, then continued. "I also took it as a sign that you couldn't be interested in me because you didn't want me as an equal." Chakotay looked up. "But now I realize that your reluctance has nothing to do with a lack of love or trust. It's just who you are. And I don't want our relationship to change you into someone you're not, some vision of who I expect you to be."

Chakotay smiled, very softly. "So I don't care anymore. The mechanics aren't all that important as long we connect. Besides---" he was swamped with a sense of resignation as his face heated, right on cue---"I enjoy your touch. Inside and out."

The blush filled Tom with delight. And the shy admission added fuel to the fire of love and longing in him. He was right to trust Chakotay. His Titan had shown by actions, and now with words, that he didn't expect Tom to submit to him. Just to love him. As a partner. A mate. He lifted their joined hands and rose, taking a seat on Chakotay's thighs. He could feel Chakotay's suddenly interested erection through the layers of cloth. Tom shivered in want, his own flesh responding immediately. He pressed a quick kiss to Chakotay’s lips.

"It's for the best reasons, Chak, I promise." Tom tried to convey his utter certainty. "Because I love you, and it feels right." 

He sighed. "I spent most of my life afraid of committing myself to another person. But no more. I want to *be* with you, in a way I never could with anyone else. I need this. Please." He searched the handsome features.

Chakotay released his worries, concerns, anything that would detract from this moment and the ones to come. He smiled and raised one hand to his beloved's face. "I would be honored."

He waited a moment for Tom to recognize the importance of his next words. "I'm going to trust that you know what you want, Tom. But remember that I'm also trusting you to tell me if I do something wrong or make you uncomfortable." 

Chakotay’s expression turned rueful. "It looks like we're both virgins this time around."

Tom chuckled. "Just don't swoon at an inappropriate moment." He laid a hand over the one on his face. "You do *want* this too, right Chak?"

Chakotay's response was a low sound in his throat as he slid his hand along Tom's jaw, down the long line of his throat, and over the gold-covered body from neck to knee. He noted the nipples jutting against the netting as well as Tom's cock tenting the material over his groin.

Chakotay's voice was husky with appreciation as he replied, "You bet the britches you're not wearing I do. It was torture, hearing your offer but knowing I couldn't accept it. You don't know how much I wanted get a look at the back of your outfit. You were nearly impossible to resist."

Tom stood and tugged his lover up with him. "I think it's time to change 'nearly impossible' to 'no longer possible'." He looped his bare arms around Chakotay's neck. "I'd like to request a bed, though."

Chakotay embraced Tom and drew him closer. He hoped Tom could feel the smile on his lips as he nuzzled along the top edges of the gold cloth, planting kisses. "Your wish is my command." He called up the Larat's bedroom, then guided Tom to sit at the foot of the ruby-colored spread. "Wait here."

Slightly anxious eyes followed Chakotay until he disappeared down the hallway. Tom shifted the bright cloth on his thighs. He only had a moment with his unformed thoughts before he was rejoined. He watched a towel-carrying Chakotay re-enter the room. His Titan was naked but for the gleaming gold-and-crystal seal.

Tom's uncertainty disappeared in a surge of lust as he surveyed the muscles moving under the coppery skin, the powerful hands, the dark cock rising against the smooth belly. He licked his lips. "I can't believe you're mine."

Chakotay looked up from the bedside table he'd crossed to. He blushed again, but smiled. "I think that's my line." He returned to stand in front of Tom and tossed a tube on the bed. Then he reached again for Tom’s hands. "Stand a moment, let me look at you." He drew Tom a step or two away from the bed, then slowly circled the still figure.

The fine mesh of the Rutali cloth drifted from shoulder to mid-shin, glistening like the blond filaments on the exposed limbs. Tom's chest and torso were a mix of ivory and gold, aroused nipples showing clearly behind the mesh. Lower down, his manhood was adorned with the fine bright threads and his own curls of hair.

Chakotay breathed deeply, and moved on. He was enticed by the narrow strip of flesh exposed between the panels, crossed only by the gold braid fastening the pieces together at the slim hips. The crystal buttons sparkled in invitation. 

/I'm glad I didn't get such a good look earlier. I wouldn't have dared to face this temptation./ The long line of Tom's back was a flawless canvas gilded by the glittering covering. Twin pert globes pushed the cloth out a little more as it glided over his buttocks, then loosely draped the lean thighs. 

Chakotay stepped up and lightly embraced Tom, dropping his chin on a broad shoulder. He rubbed his naked body against the mesh panel, pressing against the flesh underneath, his erection just brushing the younger man's cleft. "Are you ready for the next step?" he asked softly, blowing into one shell-pink ear.

Tom's body was drawn up, aroused and waiting. He'd felt the heat, the weight of the dark gaze running along his flesh. It skimmed over him, caressing. The silky skin, hard nipples and harder cock behind him made him shudder with need. He clutched at the hands clasped over his stomach. "Yes," was delivered in a moan.

Chakotay winced slightly at the fingers digging into his hands, but left them in place. Instead, he moved his mouth along the exposed skin at the top of Tom's shoulders, working his way to the right-hand set of buttons. He enveloped the fastener, using his tongue and teeth to lift the looped braid from around the crystal. He made a sound between a chuckle and groan when Tom brushed against him, twisting a little at the wet, tickling touches.

Tom felt the panels part and swing against his body, then a cool stream of air against the flesh dampened by Chakotay's saliva. The rough silk of his lover's tongue was tasting the newly revealed area, traveling back along his shoulder and up his neck. Teeth made their presence known again, tracing his ear, working strongly at his nape. The soft lips returned as the wicked mouth crossed to the left to follow a path to the other set of buttons.

Small anxious sounds were coming from Tom's throat as Chakotay repeated the undressing with the left set of buttons. Finally the cloth peeled away under its own weight, held up now only by their arms. Chakotay's hips thrust a little as he sucked the salty skin under his mouth. Eventually he reached the center again and pressed his forehead against the back of Tom's neck.

He took a deep breath, then stepped back and lifted his arms, carrying Tom's with him. The cloth dropped to the floor.

Tom shuddered as the mesh fell from his body, catching briefly on his cock before departing. He was surprised when Chakotay crossed around to face him again. He blushed at the mix of admiration and arousal in the gaze, suddenly feeling very much a virgin.

Chakotay grinned and bussed the spots of flaming color on Tom’s face. "Nice to see it's contagious," he chuckled, but passion soon reasserted itself. He ran his hands down the other man's sides and inward, tickling the jointure of the hair-sprinkled thighs. He backed Tom toward the bed, resuming his kisses to the handsome features as he continued to play with Tom's groin, cupping the sac and rubbing behind it.

Tom ran his hands over the satiny skin of his lover's shoulders and chest as they traveled. The mattress bumped the back of Tom's knees, and he bent accordingly, sitting on the jewel-hued spread, then lying back at Chakotay's small push. He watched the sleek body descend, surprisingly moving beside him instead of pinning him under its greater weight. Tom smiled, knowing that his lover was doing all he could not to provoke Tom's instinctive fears.

Chakotay's finger traced the curves of the wide mouth, as his own offered a smile in return. Then his hand opened fully to again stroke under the firm chin and along the slim throat. He lifted his forearm slightly so his palm just barely brushed the tops of the many small strands adorning his siren's chest, bringing the same light touch to the pink nipples as well. He was pleased to see Tom arch up into the strokes, trying for greater contact.

Tom muttered something unintelligible but frustrated as he lifted his torso once more, craving the warmth he could sense hovering just above his skin. He moaned in relief when the hand returned more strongly, nails lightly scratching and the palm touching with real weight. 

His nipples felt like they'd been waiting for days until dusky fingers circled them, then scissored around the tiny excited points. Tom's eyes closed, then snapped open the second a hot mouth made its presence known by attaching itself to his hip and sucking. He looked down to see Chakotay had changed position, half leaning over Tom's body, dark head angling toward the aching center of desire.

Tom's legs shifted restlessly as he anticipated the feel of Chakotay's lips and tongue on his painfully erect cock. He slid his fingers through silky dark hair, trying to urge his lover to hurry. Without success. He groaned and dropped both hands to the mattress, twisting and pulling the red satin as that teasing mouth made its infinitely slow journey.

Chakotay inhaled the musky smell of arousal as his tongue and lips catalogued the different textures of hair found on Tom's torso and legs. Despite the tugging of the impatient man beneath him, he leisurely sampled the sweat-dewed skin around Tom’s cock before deigning to swirl his tongue around the base. 

He nibbled delicately, and felt the needy thrust of Tom's body. Chakotay couldn't see too much from his position, so he kept an ear open to the emotions expressed in his lover's moans.

Chakotay moved up to the regal crown of the throbbing member, lipping the rim and lapping all of the salty fluid drooling with enthusiasm from the slit. Then carefully covering his teeth with his lips, he sank down onto Tom's cock, sucking strongly.

Tom gave a short, sharp grunt and bucked up again, seeking to bury himself in the warm, wet haven. He opened his eyes to watch his manhood flow between the rosy lips that pressed tight, forming a seal around his shaft. He began moving in earnest, too aroused to do anything but welcome the fingers that began teasing behind his balls and along the seam between his buttocks.

Chakotay leaned farther forward, perpendicular to Tom's groin, as he adjusted his angle to accept more of the silk-encased length. One hand was cupping Tom’s buttock, the other was between the long legs. His thumb kept pressing behind the taut balls, while his fingertips danced around the unseen portal. He let just the very edge of his teeth scrape lightly along Tom's cock during the next thrust and was rewarded with a burst of fluid at the back of his throat. He kept up his caresses and sucks, his hands occasionally crushed as Tom thrashed in release. 

Tom surged down and up, fucking Chakotay's mouth remorselessly as pleasure buzzed along his nerves. He felt each pulse of semen leave his body to coat the cavern encasing his cock. He became aware of the warm hands stroking his skin as he collapsed onto them. A blissful moan escaped his slack lips as all the tension dissipated through his pores. He shimmied a little, wiggling into the fingers that lightly teased places he didn't usually think about. "Damn, have you been secretly practicing, Chak?" 

The spent organ was released with a last lick. "Nah, I just had one hell of a teacher." Chakotay backed off and sat up, searching Tom's flushed face. He laid one hand on a long thigh. "Open your legs for me, Tom. I want to start getting you ready." The unspoken 'if you're sure' was tacked on by the brown eyes, making Tom smile again in gratitude. He ran his hand down the parts of Chakotay within reach and spread his legs. "Do it, Chak. I'm waiting for you."

Chakotay groaned at Tom's unabashed offering and eager expression. He moved to kiss the wanton creature his siren had become, sweeping his tongue into the sweet mouth. One hand clutched the tube of lube but the other cupped Tom’s shoulder, rubbing the sweaty flesh before wandering back down into the blond fleece decorating Tom's chest.

Tom's hands reached up, one arm draping itself along Chakotay's shoulders, the other encircling the curving waist. He pulled down and over, giving a satisfied grunt as his Titan's solid weight settled over his own body, pressing him into the mattress. His tongue played with the avid, still-salty visitor to its domain, while his legs parted even more around Chakotay’s hips. 

A sound of approval rose from his chest as he felt the heated rod of flesh digging into his belly. He tore his mouth away to gasp, "Now, Chak."

The breathy request sparked a rush of desire along Chakotay's veins, reminding him of his own arousal, heavy and pulsing. He opened his eyes and searched Tom's. The dilated eyes answered his question before he could ask it. Chakotay nodded, then nipped the corner of Tom's jaw before kneeling between the long legs. He adjusted the hair-roughened limbs, lifting them over his own spread thighs.

His hands shook slightly as he opened the tube of lubricant and coated his finger with the gel. He then returned to the area he'd mapped before, tracing the puckered opening before daring to breach it. He glided past a slight resistance, surprised at the moist heat that surrounded his exploring digit.

Tom was watching Chakotay through half-closed eyes, loving the careful, focused expression on Chakotay’s face. He almost grinned as he saw the swollen lower lip gripped between white teeth. Then he drew a startled breath as he felt Chakotay's finger enter his body. The sensation was...odd, a mixture of sliding and firmness. The invader gently moved inside him, drawing a circle as it thrust slowly in and out. Tom relaxed and gave his nervous companion a quick smile of reassurance.

The little quirk of the pink lips relieved Chakotay. He slid his finger out and added more lube, flashing a warning to Tom before he pushed two fingers into the heated channel. It was so tight, he wondered how much stretching he needed to do to avoid hurting his trusting lover. He turned his hand, making sure he was covering all of the territory he needed to. He pressed forward, but froze at a choked sound from Tom. His eyes flew to Tom's face, horrified he had done some harm.

Tom was panting now, his cock firming and thickening once more as blood rushed south in the wake of the jolt to his body. "Wow," he said, then caught the guilt-filled expression on his uncertain lover's face. "I never knew how it felt," he explained, then wriggled forward a little, trying to get those *very* capable fingers where he wanted them. "Again!" he demanded.

Chakotay grinned and firmly stroked the same spot once more, relieved and pleased with the yelp that earned him. "I need to make a note of this," he said, thoroughly exploring the area in question to Tom's increasingly loud sounds of approval. He sobered though, when he drew out and smeared gel over his cock, then one more finger. "I'm going to go with three now, Tom," he warned.

Tom tensed instinctively at the thought, but was soothed when Chakotay’s hand started rubbing circles on his belly and groin. He arched into the external and internal strokes, groaning in delight. /To think I denied myself this for so long./ He looked at his Titan, flushed and glistening. Dark eyes burning with love and his own arousal. /But I'm glad I waited for you./ He felt the hands withdraw and move to his hips. "I'm ready, Chak," he said quietly.

"I love you Tom," Chakotay answered, then rose up slightly, just easing the head of his cock into Tom's body. He groaned at the tightness, the slick heat. He could never have imagined it would feel this good. He looked into Tom's eyes. /That it would feel this right./ He paused, trembling, waiting for Tom to absorb the sensations.

Tom felt a slight burning, but it was appropriate as he was possessed by his fiery Titan. He relaxed his body, nodding in agreement as he realized Chakotay was drawing closer, pushing deeper into him.

Chakotay sensed Tom's internal muscles yielding to his movement, bringing him farther into the virgin passage. He stopped when he was fully encased in Tom's flesh, his hands moving from the narrow hips to stroke soothingly along the strong thighs. He was dazzled by the contrast between his siren's gilded perfection and the ruby coverlet. "Everything all right, Tom?"

Tom shifted his frame a little, pushing Chakotay a little deeper. He felt the silky hairs of his lover's groin tickling his backside. His reply was throaty with the blend of recent satisfaction and returning need. "Yeah, Chak."

Chakotay found the trip back out indescribable, clinging heat then shockingly cool air on his shaft. At the halfway point he moved forward again, repeating his careful thrusts, each time altering his angle a little. He shifted his hands back to cradle Tom's hips. A strangled sound told him when he'd found Tom's sweet spot again. He nodded to himself and began to relax his control, speeding up.

The smooth thrusts against Tom's prostate were building the excitement in his body, raising his tension again. But he wanted more. He waited a few more beats, then gripped Chakotay's wrists, using the leverage to pull himself higher onto the muscular thighs. He also locked his ankles around his lover's sweaty back, giving him even more ways to move. "Harder.”

Chakotay growled in acknowledgement and complied, plunging forward to meet Tom's fierce counterthrusts. The need to spill his seed rose with each breath as his balls drew up even closer to Tom's buttocks. He was breathing heavily, eyes feasting on the body stretched out before him, openly accepting his invasion with primal delight.

He focused on his lover's dripping cock, which swayed each time their bodies clashed. Chakotay brought one palm to his mouth and licked it, slowly, enjoying the wild look on Tom's face at the act. He moved the saliva-wet palm to enclose Tom’s cock, drawing up from the base with each withdrawal, squeezing down with every lunge.

Tom lost control of his senses, his brain, his body. All he knew was the drive to keep that rigid length pushing against his gland, and the large hand wrapped around his cock. The internal and external pressure forced him past the point of no return. He breathed deep and let loose a groan, arching, his movements jerky and limbs flailing as ecstasy blazed from his core out along his nerves, burning through his veins and tightening his muscles into an eternity of shuddering. 

Chakotay was seized in a fierce grip as Tom clenched around him. The spasms squeezing his cock were too much after waiting so long and he roared, holding Tom’s body in place as his hips drove forward, shooting his semen into his lover's bowels in a series of quick, heated bursts. He sank back, chest heaving, searching Tom's face for any signs of distress.

Tom let out a last sated moan as his body relaxed onto its satin background. The tone changed to disappointment as he felt Chakotay's withdrawal. "Thank you," he said, gazing at his lover through half-closed lashes.

"You're welcome." Chakotay could hear the gratitude in his own reply. He slid off the bed and fetched the towels, shaking out a moistened one and using it to wipe down Tom's glistening body. He gently rolled the limp figure over and cleaned the slick thighs, then worked his way carefully upward. He parted Tom’s buttocks and peered anxiously. "I see a little redness. Do you want me to check you out with a tricorder?"

Tom stretched in satisfaction. "Nope. I feel too good for there to be a problem." He was surprised to sense quick soft kisses, one on each buttock, before he was turned again and assisted to a sitting position.

After Tom was up, Chakotay quickly cleaned himself off and slid one leg onto the bed, bending his knee and gathering Tom against his chest and shoulder. He used one finger to lift Tom's chin and kissed him. "Thank you.”

"I can't say the pleasure was *all* mine, but you're welcome." Tom grinned and leaned his head farther back on its living pillow. "I guess you've graduated, Cadet. I'll have to start calling *you* Professor now."

Chakotay laughed and hugged the light of his life. "Does that make us colleagues?"

Tom felt as though he were immersed in his Titan's loving warmth, inside and out. He laid his hands on one of the arms encircling his body. "Colleagues, compatriots, friends, partners...equals."

Chakotay smiled and dipped his head for one more kiss. "Lovers." Then he shifted his grip and rose with Tom in his arms. "Bed or bath?"

"Bed now," Tom murmured and relaxed into the strong embrace. "Bath tomorrow."

"It's a date. You know how much I like the idea of you and suds," Chakotay said, grinning.

Tom felt his lips curve in response. "Right back at ya, Chak."

The two men laughed together as they turned down the covers and crawled under them.

As they settled into bed, Tom arranged himself at Chakotay's side, laying his head again on a smooth shoulder and draping an arm around the muscled torso. He tossed one leg over a solid thigh. The abrupt movement reminded him of the night's activities as he felt the faintest twinge from his no-longer-virgin ass.

He knew his smile was a blend of satisfaction and anticipation. He was definitely looking forward to more sessions with "Professor" Chakotay. Tom would have to do a lot of research as both a bottom and a top before he decided which one he preferred. Fortunately, he happened to have found the perfect study partner in the man he loved. 

Tom’s thoughts blended dreamy and steamy, as Tom's imagination played with images from the last few days, switching the roles back and forth at random. /Oh yes, a *lot* of research. In fact, I wonder.../

"Chakotay?" Tom started idly tracing patterns on the soft skin under his hand.

"Hmmm?" The vibration of Chakotay’s hum echoed in Tom's own chest.

Tom could feel himself blush. "Um, I meant to ask you, um...what was it like to be chained? I mean, did you enjoy it?"

Chakotay pondered his answer. /I wonder what you're up to, my seductive siren./ "A lot of it, yes. Because I was with you." He tried to explain. "I couldn't *do* anything except feel, and that somehow made the sensations more intense. It also helped that you made me feel pretty damn spectacular by the time you were done." 

He grinned. “Why? Planning another round?"

"Well, actually, I was wondering if you ever pictured me, you know, that way." Tom concentrated on his fingertips and tried to control his expression. "You had some time by yourself before I got to the Regent's room. And it's not like there weren't enough props for your imagination. So...did you?"

"Yes, yes I did. But it was after, when you were washing up." The dark eyes smoldered at the memory. "I was thinking that high couch had real possibilities. The perfect height for all sorts of interesting explorations."

Chakotay lifted a hand to finger a lock of Tom's hair. "And gold is *definitely* your color." His expression sobered as he searched Tom's face. "You do know I wouldn't try anything like that unless you were sure."

"Of course. But if I *were* sure?" Tom’s brows rose inquiringly as his voice trailed off hopefully.

"You'd be in those cuffs so fast you wouldn't hear the clicks." Chakotay confirmed, then brushed a tender kiss against Tom’s lips. "But you'd be out of them again just as quickly if it didn't feel right."

Tom's expression was fond as he moved his finger to his partner's nose, running down the little bump. "That's a given with you, Chak. Maybe we'll try it sometime," he sobered and his hand moved to rest on the Rutali crystal, "after you get back."

"After I get back," Chakotay echoed.

The two men looked into each other's eyes, acknowledging the day ahead, which would arrive much too soon. They kissed, a promise for the future, then settled down to sleep, wrapped in each other's arms.

************************************************************

"Sisryn!" Nedal's roar sent the Chief Consul bolting upright from her pillow, wild eyes shooting to the massive silhouette framing her bedroom door. The illumination streaming from the living quarters was soon matched as Nedal called up the lights and strode fully into the room. He stood, hands on hips, at the foot of the Rutali woman's bed. She gulped and instinctively pulled up the covers, even though she was attired in pajamas. "Yes, my liege?" she asked, still shaky.

"You have sent the final arrangements to Voyager?" The question snapped whip-crack sharp against her ears.

"Yes. The Larat will beam down to his rooms an hour after the alien vessel achieves orbit around Ruta. His people are not to communicate directly with him, or even approach the palace, until after his term of service is completed. He will have some time to change and prepare, then introductions to the remaining pride leaders will begin."

Sisryn took a breath. Her voice strengthened as she continued her report. "The formal presentation of the Larat will occur, in accordance with custom, at sundown. All of the ministers, pride leaders, and those who have won Privilege will be there for the ceremony. From all reports, everything is ready and in place." 

"I hope your people have not relaxed now that they think their jobs are done, because I have some alterations to be implemented." The Regent moved about the bedroom with a nonchalant stride, toying with the personal items scattered on the various pieces of furniture. "You will contact Voyager first thing in the morning to invite the senior staff to the palace. At sunset."

"But that's the time of the ritual!" came Sisryn’s automatic protest.

"Exactly. I wish Voyager's main bridge officers to attend. *All* of them. Let the aliens know that they have fared well in trades with our colony world, but that need not be the case on Ruta itself." The air around Nedal was cloying as self-satisfaction oozed from his every pore.

The Chief Consul scrambled out of bed, aghast. "What? You want the crew at the palace when the full scope of the Larat's duties is revealed? But secrecy is one of the main tenets of tradition. No outsiders have been involved in generations. It's a violation of the very nature of the agreement to serve."

"But it is not forbidden." The reply was a low, assured purr. The Regent crossed to stand in front of Sisryn, who quailed at the sudden rage blasting from her leader's golden eyes. The purr became a menacing growl. "You had best remember, Consul, that your oaths are to *me*. Not to the human you are so fond of. You will do as I command, or suffer the consequences."

Sisryn slumped, defeated. She would check the records herself, but she already knew Nedal would not have ordered his unorthodox audience without being sure of the law. Chakotay would be the first Larat in living memory to be denied privacy in the ceremony that was already bound to be a source of shock and discomfort to him. She bowed her head and blinked back tears. "It will be as you say," she murmured.

Nedal merely nodded, accepting the obedience as his due. "Excellent." His expression turned sly. "Voyager is such a close-knit pride, I know they will be pleased to share in their valued officer's moment of initiation." He crossed to Sisryn's door, but paused at the threshold.

"By the way,” Nedal said as he glanced over his shoulder. “I've been doing some research on the rights and responsibilities of the seal-bearer and the evolving nature of Privilege...in all of its forms. My results will have some bearing on the ceremony itself. I believe the prides will be very enthusiastic in their appreciation of the changes I'm going to institute. They will reflect the most ancient foundations of Rutali tradition."

His smile sent a chill down the woman's spine. "Sleep well, Sisryn. Dream of your Chakotay. Of how he---and his people---will react to the full truth of Larat." He left and the door slid shut.

Sisryn hid her face in her shaking hands as she sank onto the bed.


	16. Chapter 16

/This is hopeless. Absolutely hopeless./ Sisryn blinked bleary eyes at Milady. "Nedal's won. I can't find anything in the law to keep him from bringing the Voyager people down for the ceremony."

"You're right." The elder Rutali flipped a few pages, then closed the book in her hands with an irritated thump. "The Celestials didn't make any provision for this. Seems it's only been custom that kept the Larat's privacy until now." 

She frowned. "And the fact that most of the time the Regents were accepting the service of *their* Chosen, so they didn't want an unnecessary audience."

The Chief Consul rose stiffly, stretching the kinks from her spine. When she was done she gave her companion a sad but grateful glance. "Thank you for giving up your rest to help me with this research, however futile. I guess I'll contact Captain Janeway after breakfast." 

Sisryn rubbed her hands against her aching temples. "The Regent made it very clear the aliens *must* attend. I'm to threaten them with trade impediments if they refuse."

"Our leader certainly knows how to herd his prey," Milady acknowledged with a grim smile. "Though Voyager did well at the colony world, the Captain mentioned wanting some surplus goods and energy. She'd like to be prepared, since they don't know where the wormhole will leave them or how long it will take to find another source of supplies."

"Yes." Sisryn sighed. "And I can't even give Chakotay a warning, since no one knows what Nedal has planned." She began stacking the books, trying to delay the composition of the message that would make things even harder on the Larat she so admired.

"True, the Regent's comments were so cryptic we really don't know how he'll strike." Worry deepened the lines on Milady's face. "The only thing we can be sure of is that Chakotay is definitely his target."

***************

Nedal roared awake, shaking with the force of sexual release. His chest heaved as he sat up and instinctively pulled the sweat-and-semen-slick sheets from his skin. His body hummed with the immense surge of satisfaction, but his mind was disturbed by the images still parading before his imagination.

He had dreamed of the claiming. Of lying above a figure chained to the royal bed, plunging deep between parted legs, driving toward fulfillment. Such things had actually happened before, with a handful of other Larats who had served him over the course of his reign. And the fantasy, this anticipation of the event, often visited his slumbers during the period of waiting as each Chosen traveled to the homeworld. In fact, he'd enjoyed this particular scenario several times this last week as he envisioned taking pleasure in the golden goband, Tom Paris. 

But not this time. This night he dreamed of spending himself in the Larat---Chakotay. It was not as he'd expected. Always, in reality as well as in dreams, submission was what the Regent expected, and desired. The cowering obedience to his every whim. The shivering, spineless acceptance of whatever ways he chose to use and abuse his temporary bed-slaves. 

In the dream, Chakotay had neither submitted nor rebelled. The human had not feared. And for that very reason Nedal found himself desperately desiring him.

The images began with the bronzed, night-haired alien naked and pinned by chains that extended from the bedposts at the corners of the white-draped mattress in the palace suite. Nedal watched his own hands, claws retracted, stroke coppery skin as he absorbed its warm satin texture. He'd started at the ankles and worked his way up, tracing the heavy muscles that the alien's leathery challenge outfit had only hinted at. By the time he'd reached the handsome, strangely marked face his erection had been full and aching, yearning for its promised sheath in the shadow between the sleek spread thighs.

But Chakotay's expression as he panted under Nedal gave the Rutali pause. The proud man was not frightened or angry. Definitely not cowed or submissive. Instead the flushed features reflected arousal, the brown eyes dilated and glittering with want and need and welcome. Nedal traced the lushly curved lips and felt the stroke of tongue against the pads of his fingers, drawing them in to be sucked and lightly bitten by his not-so-helpless captive.

Then Nedal had succumbed to a strange temptation and done something he had never bothered sharing with any other Larat. He kissed Chakotay, and had again been surprised. Their mouths merged in a hungry mating, tongues exploring and sliding together. Chakotay's tongue had stroked and been lightly scratched by sharp Rutali incisors. The blood from the small lacerations stoked Nedal's excitement even higher as he sucked the metallic-tinged sweetness from the hot mouth.

And it had gotten better. Chakotay had shown himself to be the same unique blend of prey and predator in bed as out of it.

The human was endlessly, gloriously yielding. Tossing his head back to bare his throat for Nedal's lips. Arching into his captor's hands and mouth with moans of encouragement, even as claws and teeth made their presence known on the burnished flesh.

But the bound man also asserted himself, demanded. As Nedal sampled his fill of the unfamiliar silky-smooth skin, Chakotay began thrusting his hips as far as the restraints would allow, growling "Fuck me" in a tone that was nothing short of a command.

Nedal finally obeyed, cupping the lush, rounded ass. He slightly lifted and fully parted the muscular buttocks to bury himself to the hilt in heat and tightness. He began driving in earnest, moving back and forth in the satiny channel. Again, Chakotay was a revelation, meeting him thrust for thrust, raising his hips higher to bring Nedal closer, rubbing himself against the plush fur of the Rutali body. All music stripped from the melodious voice as each plunging stroke of Nedal's cock evoked harsh grunts of appreciation mingled with orders for more, harder, now.

Straining at the chains, Chakotay leaned up to lick and bite *him*, and Nedal reeled with the sensations of the rough-silk tongue and sharp teeth against his throat and chest.

Then he reached to grab the dark hair and hold Chakotay's head still. They began another primal, animal kiss, mouths opened wide to swallow each other, mingling hot breaths. Passion blazed between them like nothing Nedal had ever known with an alien. This human---smaller, weaker, unclawed, chained---matched passion for passion with Nedal's full rutting fury, the kind of joining that Rutali only found with their mates.

They burned too hot to survive long. Chakotay tried to thrust his engorged cock against Nedal's stomach, desperate, and finally tore his mouth away to growl as his climax hit. Nedal sank his teeth into the straining throat as he pounded the arching, shaking body, slamming into the spasming passage until his cock erupted and he threw his own head back to roar his release, blood staining his gaping mouth.

That's when Nedal woke up.

He rose from the bed, unclothed and unsettled, and began to pace. The dream was tantalizing in its revelation of the wanton passion and pleasure to be found in the human's muscular body. The Rutali finally admitted to himself that Chakotay was indeed an extremely sensual, desirable creature. Even the vibrant darkness of his coloring had become a symbol of his difference from Nedal's usual pallid blond bedmates. The idea of a Larat who didn't fear him, who wanted him with such fierceness, was shockingly enticing.

Some Rutali would consider such an astounding vision, and Nedal's subsequent shift in interest from one man to another, a sign that the dream was a message from the Celestials themselves. Those believers would make all efforts to ensure the events experienced in slumber would come to pass in the waking world.

Nedal was not such a man. While he now eagerly awaited the delivery of Chakotay to his bed, the mating he had just imagined would never come to pass. Nedal could fantasize about a Larat who believed himself an equal, even desire him for it. But the truth was that the Regent would never tolerate such defiance from *anyone* under his command. 

Chakotay had already challenged his authority, his sovereign superiority, several times. Not to mention denying Nedal access to the once-arousing Tom Paris while making use of the blond himself.

The golden eyes hardened. /No, my dear Larat, you will definitely know who is your master by the time this day is done./ His trap was already laid and it was against his nature to show mercy. Chakotay---along with all of the Rutali and the Voyager crew---would learn the consequences of crossing the Regent. The lesson would be a harsh one indeed.

Nedal licked his lips, the myriad flavors of his anticipated captive still tingling on his tongue. By this time tomorrow, he would know how accurately his dream had depicted Chakotay. And how satisfying breaking such a willful, self-contained man would be.

He rang for his attendants, eager to arrive at the palace and make sure all was ready for the ceremony, and the claiming. He could hardly wait.

***************

Chakotay sighed into Tom's mouth and tilted his head to the left, beginning a new round of kissing. He felt as though he were trying to absorb some of his beloved's essence through breath and touch and taste. His lips sucked at their wider counterparts as his tongue languidly mated with its slowly savoring twin. 

His nostrils flared as he inhaled Tom's scent, even as his hands traveled from fair curls to slender waist. They were constantly in motion, now slipping under the younger man's shirt to remind themselves of the smoothness of pale skin and tickle of body hair. He felt a trickle of air in his throat as Tom moaned.

Tom's fingers clenched around Chakotay’s biceps for a moment as sensitized nerves drove a sound of wanting from his mouth, still fused to soft, full lips. Then he returned to his imprinting of Chakotay's form on his memory. His hands moved to explore the strong throat, along the firm jaw, and up to the arched black brows. Then he framed the handsome face, pressing his own lips closer, curving his back to brush their chests together, feeling hints of Chakotay's heat even through two layers of clothing. 

He was debating whether to lower his Titan or to lie back on the couch himself when he was gently pushed away. He opened his eyes and fell into Chakotay's, dark and glowing with love. Tom sighed in adoration as he watched the kiss-swollen lips part to speak. 

Chakotay stood; his answering sigh was layered with regret. "We'd better get some breakfast, Tom. I don't know how long we have until Voyager achieves orbit." He tugged his lanky partner from the couch and into his arms for one last brush against the tempting mouth. "I'm glad you're here."

Tom mussed the sable hair playfully, then leaned back to admire the effect. "I wouldn't have missed the chance of making out in the First Officer's cabin."

"I just couldn't stay on the holodeck any longer." Chakotay shrugged and ducked his head a little. "For some crazy reason I was afraid all this would disappear the second I stepped out into the corridor."

"I know what you mean." Tom pressed his forehead against the tattooed temple. "This somehow makes us more real, doesn't it?" As they stood a minute, just being together, Tom recalled the morning.

They had awakened at almost the same moment, immediately drawing together for a kiss that mingled love and reassurance. The pensive mood continued as they bathed each other, using hands and lips to soothe and comfort rather than arouse. When they were tenderly drying each other off Chakotay suggested the change in scenery and Tom agreed with alacrity. 

They'd traveled at a properly sedate pace to Chakotay's cabin, a decorous distance between them.

The moment the door closed they were embracing, and Chakotay had guided them to the comfortable sofa to settle in for some serious necking. Passion was again muted by a need for deeper connection and awareness of the rapidly dwindling amount of time they had left.

Tom sighed as the recollection ended and shifted to nibble on his lover’s neck. "I'm going to miss you, Babe," he mumbled against the warm skin, memorizing the citrus-sandalwood scent of his lover.

Chakotay lifted a hand to cup his lover's nape. "My heart will be with you, Tom." He tilted Tom's head until he could meet the anguished blue eyes. He wondered if his own reflected the misery in his soul. "But I can't think of you. I have to tuck *us* away in a corner of my mind. Or I won't be able to go through with it."

Tom’s fingers clenched around the Rutali crystal. "I can't stand that you'll be in seclusion, Chak. I want to know that you're all right, how you're feeling---what he's doing to you." 

Tom shook his head. "I have to be sure Nedal isn't hurting you."

Chakotay offered a small smile and ran his thumb behind one neat ear. "I'll be fine. We discussed the refusals. And Sisryn said that not even the Regent would dare try to circumvent them once they were accepted under the seal."

"He'd better not," Tom growled, "or that alley cat won't know what hit him."

"How very Rutali you sound," Chakotay chuckled, eyes brightening with humor. "Maybe I should give Nedal fair warning of what he'll be up against." 

He gave a last squeeze, then slipped out of their embrace and walked toward the replicator, remarking over his shoulder, "I know you fight dirty."

Tom forced himself to relax, recognizing that his Titan needed to lighten the atmosphere, beginning the process of distancing himself. Being a past master of the art of self-protection, Tom understood Chakotay's actions and was willing to help him in this small way to prepare for their imminent separation. "Of course," he replied with a shrug, "it's the only way to be sure I'll win."

He sauntered over to the replicator, peering over the shorter man's shoulder. "So what's on the menu?"

"Cereal and fruit. My stomach's not up for anything elaborate.” Chakotay handed a full bowl and the plate of sliced melon to Tom, picking up the other bowl and two mugs himself.

The two men took their seats and dug in, changing the conversation to less volatile topics until they were interrupted by the door chime. "Enter," Chakotay called, sharing a puzzled glance with his partner.

"Good morning, gentlemen." Kathryn strode in, her eyes immediately zipping to Tom. She was surprised that the openness of his expression continued into the morning. She could detect anxiety, but also love and the strangely energized peace that emotion brings. She smiled at him, then turned to Chakotay. 

If she was stunned by the absence of Tom's Flyboy façade, she was absolutely floored by the disappearance of Chakotay's stoic Commander persona. Even alone with her, his eyes had never been so unguarded, shining with love and tenderness as they flicked a quick glance at Tom. 

His features had softened as well, a fond smile dimpling the bronzed cheeks as he stood to welcome her. "You're out and about early this morning. Would you care for some coffee?" He was already heading for the replicator.

"Yes, please." Kathryn restlessly moved to the table, running her hand along its edge and avoiding both men's gazes. Her brow furrowed as she reviewed the unpleasant agenda she had brought to her best friend's door. 

"Have a seat," Chakotay offered as he set the mug down in front of an empty place. He sensed her disquiet and gave her shoulder a quick pat before she settled into a chair and he returned to his own. "What's on your mind?" he asked.

Kathryn sighed and stared into her cup as she rotated it between tense fingers. "I just spoke to Sisryn. There's been a change in plans." She looked at her fellow officer, unconsciously focusing on the necklace encircling his throat. "Did the Chief Consul give you any idea of what the official presentation would be like?"

"Well, she said that I needed to wear one of the Larat outfits." Chakotay looked at Tom as he said, "The public ones are much better than the private selections."

Tom relaxed at the information. Although he was trying hard not to feel jealous of Nedal, he really didn't want anyone else looking at his Titan.

Chakotay nodded in acknowledgement of Tom's reaction and continued. "There is a gathering of Rutali. I agree to service and list my refusals. Sisryn explains the tradition of Larat. The Regent makes a statement of acceptance and we retire to...get to know each other better."

All three of them blushed slightly at the euphemism. Kathryn took a long drink, then straightened her shoulders as she set the cup down. "I'm sorry to tell you this, but the senior staff has been 'invited' to the ceremony." 

Her face reflected her discomfort at the situation. "Sisryn didn't even bother to be subtle. She said that the Regent has ordered her to ensure that we attend. If we don't, we won't get the supplies we were counting on to cushion our journey once we leave the wormhole. She even mentioned the possibility that the whole deal could be called off."

"I take it that Nedal has something specific in mind for you?" Chakotay's voice was calm, but concern was clear in his eyes.

"More likely for you. Apparently, privacy for the Larat ritual has been a tradition since the beginning. This time is the exception." Kathryn sighed and pressed her fingers into the bridge of her nose. 

Then she brought the hand down and covered Chakotay's. "I'm willing to end this right now. Before we reach their homeworld." She indicated the seal with a jerk of her chin. "We can just dump that bauble on Nedal's head and blast out of here. Or keep it and pawn it at the next planet we see."

Chakotay turned his hand to clasp Kathryn's and his lips quirked with gratitude and regret. "Thanks for the offer, but I don't think so. I've given the Rutali my word, and I can't let you give up this chance to shorten our journey. The crew *needs* this jump to boost their morale, even if we only shave off a year or two. And I'm hoping to do a little better than that." He shrugged. "I've been taught by the best."

He turned and looked at Tom apologetically. "It looks like our secret will be out. Kathryn's going to have to make some kind of statement to prepare our people. The second she does that, everyone will figure out exactly how you've been 'helping' me. I'm sorry, Tom."

"Don't be." Now Tom reached out and claimed a hand. "I told you I don't care what you have to do with Nedal. I also don't care who knows I love you." He smiled, trying to convey the strength of his conviction through his gaze and his grip.

"And I love you, Tom Paris." Chakotay raised Tom’s fingers to his lips to kiss them. He released both of the hands clasped in his own and looked at his best friend. "Whatever you have to say is all right with me, Kathryn. Just...wait until I'm gone, if you would. I really don't want to deal with questions at this point."

"Understood." Kathryn rose and reached a hand to each man's shoulder, communicating approval and compassion. "We've just achieved orbit. You have an hour to get ready. I'll leave you two to finish your breakfast and say your farewells."

She paused at the door to meet Chakotay's eyes once more. "Thank you, and good luck." She left to make arrangements for the briefing.

Tom turned back toward Chakotay. "So this is it."

Chakotay glanced up, then away. "I guess so." 

They both managed a few desultory bites before rising to recycle their dishes. They silently adjourned to the bathroom to brush their teeth. Both men's attempts to appear unmoved were sabotaged when Chakotay looked in the mirror and saw his Tom-spiked hair. 

He mock-glared at the blond, whose answering grin started trembling. They were embracing before another breath was drawn, burrowing into each other.

They clung for a few minutes, then Tom sensed Chakotay shift and full lips pressed against his own. They tasted of promises, and regrets, and good-byes. Then he felt Chakotay lay a trail of soft kisses to his ear, and heard a shaky, whispered, "Go." 

Tom nodded, knowing they both needed time to regain their composure. He released his Titan and didn't look back as he exited, grabbed his bag and headed out, walking quickly to his own cabin. 

Once there, he flung his case onto a chair and collapsed on the couch. He sought calm, breathing carefully in and out, until the hour was up and Chakotay had beamed down to the Regent's palace. He didn't even need to look at the chronometer to know the moment his lover was gone.

************************************************************

Captain Janeway watched her staff file into the briefing room, curiosity evident in their expressions and eager entrances. The exception was, of course, Tom. His off-duty clothes looked a bit rumpled as he shuffled in and took his customary seat. He swallowed as he glanced at the empty chair next to hers, and Kathryn found herself choking down her own lump of anxiety. 

She leaned forward, speaking into the interested silence. "As you know, the Rutali people set specific requirements for crews who wish to take advantage of their wormhole. We have agreed to their conditions, in hopes of reducing a little of the distance Voyager still needs to travel to reach home. In accordance with those stipulations, Chakotay has already beamed down to the planet to begin his tenure as the Larat. No one knows how long he will be there, but it is at least a week and possibly as long as a month."

Kathryn stood and slowly walked around her listeners, running her fingers along the back of each chair. "There is a ceremony marking the start of the Commander's official term of service. Apparently in defiance of long-held tradition, the Rutali Regent has insisted that all of us attend this ritual. We are expected to present ourselves at the palace at 1800 hours."

She stopped behind Tom's chair and met each pair of eyes, impressing the importance of her next words. "If not for that breach in custom, I would not be violating Chakotay's privacy. Understand me, *nothing* that is said in this room or seen on Ruta is ever to be spoken of. Do I make myself clear?"

B'Elanna's brows drew together in concern, while Neelix fidgeted uncomfortably. Tuvok's eyes narrowed as his vague suspicions sharpened, while Harry bit his lip and cast a worried glance at Tom. The Doctor frowned, while Seven simply raised her Borg-enhanced eyebrow. But they all nodded in acknowledgement of the Captain's order.

Kathryn took a deep breath and gripped Tom's shoulders, feeling the tension under her hands. "You've been told that Chakotay is Voyager's official representative among the Rutali; that is true. Additionally, some of you are aware that the Commander was spending a lot of time on the holodeck, working on a gift for the Regent. That is also true, but not in the way you think. The true price for using the wormhole is a...highly defined sexual relationship between the Larat and the Regent. So you see, the gift Chakotay was preparing was himself."

Gasps filled the room as four pairs of eyes opened wide with surprise. Tuvok did not react other than to nod to himself as his worst-case scenario was confirmed. The Doctor had taken one look at the medical evidence after the combat and figured things out days ago. The others had no warning.

B'Elanna paled as she tried to come to grips with the idea of her friend forced into that kind of servitude. Seven's face reflected her concentration as she processed this new data and its implications. Neelix's jaw worked for a moment as he desperately searched for an appropriate response. And Harry stared at Tom as he whispered, "So all those nights you were helping him to---"

"To explore the dynamics of male on male sexuality," Tom interrupted with surface calm. He felt Kathryn's squeeze of encouragement as he lifted his chin and continued. "And for the record, Chakotay was a brilliant student. Absolutely magnificent."

"You have romantic feelings for the Commander." Seven's flatly delivered observation heaped yet another shock on some of her listeners.

"You're in love? With *Chakotay*? Since when?" B'Elanna's bewildered voice matched her expression at first, then she sank back with sudden understanding. "And he loves you. That's why he accepted the challenge." Her eyes narrowed. "And why he was determined not to lose it. He was protecting you."

"That's right," Harry said, leaning forward to stab a finger into the table for emphasis. "That whole fight was because Nedal wanted *you*. He seemed completely obsessed."

Tom just nodded, his feelings too overwhelming for speech.

"Yes," Kathryn answered for him, "but after the Commander held his own in combat, Rutali law confirmed his right to the seal and put Tom forever out of Nedal's hands." 

She sighed and returned to her seat. "Now it appears the Regent has changed focus. He has a plan to get back at Chakotay, and we're somehow part of it."

B'Elanna's palms smacked the table as she grimaced in frustration. "So this alien bigwig is planning to humiliate him or something? And we get front-row seats?" She looked at the Captain and Tom. "Isn't there anything we can do?"

"Unfortunately, no. Not without jeopardizing our agreement with the Rutali." Kathryn rubbed her forehead wearily. "Sisryn did warn me about a few things. Don't approach Chakotay or seek to have any contact with him. Be extremely respectful and deferent to Nedal. And do *not* speak unless you're spoken to. To break the silence of the ceremony is to challenge the Regent's authority."

She looked around the table of identically grim faces. "Chakotay will get through this, and so will we. No one knows what our vile host is planning, so don't do anything to bring attention to yourselves. And please," she opened her hands. "Respect the Commander's and Tom's privacy. Don't gossip about this, even among yourselves."

After a moment Kathryn stood. "Be in your dress uniforms and at the transporter by 1755 hours. Dismissed."

Tom watched the others leave and turned to face his Captain. "Thanks. I know you're doing what you can to help Chakotay."

"To help both of you, Tom." She crossed to him and lightly gripped his arm. "I only hope our precautions are enough."

He nodded and they left the room.

************************************************************

Chakotay ducked into an empty alcove in the enormous reception hall and sighed, leaning against the wall, hoping the tall plants screening the entrance would hide him for a moment.

It had been a long day. His mind whirled with the names of dozens of Rutali he'd been introduced to since this morning. He'd barely had time to change before Sisryn knocked at his door for the first round of meetings.

He was a very popular fellow it seemed. So many people wanted to start up conversations. His eyes narrowed as he recalled some of the strange questions he'd been asked in the receiving line, at lunch, during the afternoon seminars. They ranged from his tastes in music and art to an explanation of his personal philosophies to what he did all day on Voyager to why he'd destroyed his own ship to what color underwear he was wearing---if any.

Of course, even the memories of the questions generated a blush. Partly because everyone was *touching* him. Holding his hand, stroking his arm, encircling his waist or shoulders. A few Rutali even leaned in for a full-body press and sniff at his neck, asking what scent he was wearing. They looked just a little too interested when he said none. He'd have sworn one man even licked his lips when he thought Chakotay wasn't looking.

And his ass---if he weren't so fast on his feet his butt would be black and blue from all the attempted pats and pinches. Young, old, men, women---everybody seemed to want to grab some gusto. He shook his head and pressed a little deeper into his hiding place. Even Milady apparently considered him fair game. He'd caught her twice eyeing his assets and once her hand was sliding to cop a feel before he angled himself into a corner. She'd only grinned unrepentantly at him and snapped her fingers at the lost opportunity.

One consolation was that he didn't have to worry about the fondlers finding more than they bargained for. The intimate preparations he would require to accommodate Nedal weren't necessary until after the ritual was completed. Sisryn had reassured him that he would also have time to change again, into an outfit for the Regent's private viewing. 

Chakotay had absorbed, then ignored the information. He'd managed to keep his mind off painful subjects throughout the day, but in this current moment of calm it was hard to keep thoughts of Tom at bay.

The reception hall's cream-colored walls and columns reminded him of his fair-skinned siren, and the delicate blue of the vaulted ceiling perfectly matched Tom's eyes. The gold accents of course evoked the man's bright hair, and the fires from the torches the passion that the two kindled so often in the last week.

Chakotay bit his lip and touched the Rutali seal resting on his chest, wondering how long he would be wearing it. And what would happen to him before he was finally free.

Nedal had so far made no appearance, and Sisryn had shrugged at Chakotay's queries as to his whereabouts. She suggested the Regent was waiting for Voyager's crew to arrive so he could make a grand entrance for the ceremony. Neither the Larat nor the Chief Consul spent much time speculating on the scheming royal's plans. There was little they could do except wait for the trap to be sprung.

Chakotay sighed one last time, squared his shoulders and left the alcove. His brief respite was over; it was time to return to the lions' den.

***************

Tom had become accustomed to Rutali opulence, so his trek through the palace to the reception hall didn't inspire the awe that clearly showed on Harry's and Neelix's faces. He would bet his own expression completed the set of serious scowls sported by B'Elanna, the Doc and the Captain. Seven and Tuvok were as neutral as always.

He craned his neck as he tugged at the collar of his dress uniform, trying to see over the tawny heads of their hosts to get a glimpse of Chakotay. His lover’s raven hair should have stood out in this vast field of blonds. "Should" being the operative word, since Tom didn't have any luck spotting his Titan. He moved closer to Tuvok and nudged him. "Any sign of the Commander?" he asked, trying to sound casual.

Tuvok calmly surveyed the reception hall. "Not at this time," he said, "but there seems to be activity behind those screens." He indicated the latticed panels stretched across the width of the room. As Tuvok noted, the colors flashing behind the small openings in the patterned wood suggested figures scurrying on some unknown business.

"OK." Tom had a weight on his chest that matched the knot in his gut. He was definitely worried for his lover. He wasn't sure if it really was better to be down here. Knowing what Chakotay was dealing with eased his own mind, but he doubted Chakotay was going to appreciate the presence of his friends and crewmates for what was bound to be a trying experience. /I only hope Chak was right about the public outfits offering a little more coverage./

Tom's attention, as well as everyone else's, was drawn to the center of the room, where the panels were being carried away to reveal the other half of the reception hall. A golden throne sporting ornately carved legs and arms and cushioned in red velvet sat against a wall on a three-step dais. Above it a giant crystal rested in a gold setting much like the ministers' seals. Several smaller but still sumptuous seats formed lines on either side of the throne. Two banks of more mundane chairs were placed on the floor, perpendicular to the platform.

Sisryn appeared at the Captain's elbow. "Your supplies have been delivered. Let me guide you to your places," she said, leading the way.

"I guess we really will have front-row seats," Harry muttered as he settled down next to Tom. He noted that the Captain had the end chair closest to the platform, followed by Tom, himself, B'Elanna, the Doc, Tuvok, Seven and Neelix. He watched as the seats across from them were filled with richly-robed Rutali, and could hear people making their way into the rows of chairs behind the Voyager crew.

Sisryn nodded farewell to Captain Janeway and made her way up the steps to take the first seat on the left-hand side of the throne, the same side as the aliens' positions. She sighed and twisted her hands, eager to get the ritual finished. Anxious to learn what the Regent had in store for Chakotay. She was soon joined by other ministers, all wearing their crystals. The throne, and the first two chairs on its right-hand side, remained empty.

A gong sounded from somewhere, its echoes bouncing off the walls and climbing to brush against the vaulted ceiling. After a few moments a murmur swept across the room, causing all eyes to turn to watch the Larat make his way down the aisle as he escorted Milady.

"Wow," Harry breathed, and sensed the heads around him nodding in agreement. "You were right, Tom," he said quietly to his friend, "Chakotay looks magnificent."

All Tom could do was sit, soul burning with love and desire, his eyes clinging to the gold-clad figure of his Titan. Chakotay's arms were bared by the sleeveless vest he wore. The deep vee of the neckline showed off the Rutali seal, and the nipped-in waist of the garment ended just slightly below the top of his trousers. Those were just a little tighter than his flamenco pants, showing off his legs and hugging the curves of his bottom. Matching sandals completed the ensemble.

Gold decorated Chakotay's face as well. A bright, thin outline made his tattoo gleam, and a meticulously placed pattern of tiny gold dots drew focus to the depth and darkness of his eyes. He looked like he could have been a Mayan prince ascending his throne.

Instead, Chakotay walked with Milady up the steps to the right-hand line of chairs. He assisted her to the second seat from the center, and lowered himself into the first.

Tom caught a quick glance of mingled concern and caring from Chakotay, and felt some of the tension in his body ease. Then Chakotay turned to face forward, waiting quietly at the throne's right hand.

The gong sounded forth once more. Heads turned again as the Regent's confident strides conquered the ground between himself and the place reserved for him.

Nedal barely glanced at the Voyager crew. His attention was captured by the image of his Larat, calmly watching him approach the dais. He couldn't quite read the expression in the brown eyes. Serenity, perhaps hints of concern, challenge, even the faintest spark of interest. 

His hungry gaze confirmed the considerable musculature of Chakotay's body as arousal rose. As he spun to take his seat he caught sight of Tom Paris, his golden one. Strangely, for the first time in his adult life Nedal had no interest in a blond, even such a comely specimen as his goband. The shift in his obsession was complete.

The Regent studied Chakotay's profile out of the corner of his eye. For a single moment he pondered what might have been. His intent wavered as he considered holding back his revenge and accepting what the human would freely offer in the course of his duties. But it was a fleeting hesitation. Nedal soon shrugged off the promise of this morning's dream and set his sights on his planned reality.

/What a magnificent claiming it might have been, my Larat. Still, I think I will enjoy forcing your submission. It is a fair consolation prize for the loss of your willing passion./ He nodded to Sisryn, signaling the beginning of the ceremony.

Chakotay had instinctively tensed at the feel of those eyes upon him once more. Something had changed in Nedal's regard. The indifference had long ago transmuted to anger, but now there was anticipation and the possession of a sexual predator. Chakotay was uncomfortably reminded of Tom's gaze from the night of the chains. He swallowed but maintained his stoic façade.

The gong rang again as the Chief Consul stood to address the assembly. "The Celestials have gifted us with many laws and traditions to guide the Rutali and shape our destiny. One time-honored custom is the pledge of service. When a group of aliens requests the use of the Celestials' conduit, our wormhole, a single representative is chosen. He or she is offered the seal of Larat, and agrees to become the attendant of the Regent. To anticipate his needs, satisfy his desires, fulfill his fantasies---barring, of course, the duties refused in accordance with the rite of acceptance."

She turned slightly, so she could see Nedal and Chakotay. "Chakotay of the Federation Starship Voyager. You have been offered the seal and title of Larat. You have studied the great book and prepared to serve the Regent. Do you accept this honor and duty? What conditions do you set?"

Chakotay rose and also turned slightly, mirroring Sisryn's position. He could clearly see his crewmates, but chose instead to focus on the Chief Consul. "I, Chakotay of Voyager, do accept the duties of Larat in exchange for my vessel's journey through the Celestials' conduit. I agree to serve the Regent with these refusals. No fisting. No restraints. No blindfolds. No pain. No kissing."

The fifth item caused an uproar as Rutali voices rose in protest and dismay. The Voyager crew sat in the midst of the upset throng. They were struggling to absorb this blunt sign of the type of activities Chakotay had committed to, and to understand why anyone else other than Nedal would care about the refusals.

The gong silenced the crowd. Sisryn nodded to Chakotay. "Your acceptance, and refusals, are acknowledged. Larat, take your place at the Regent's side."

Chakotay in his turn nodded and resumed his seat, taking care that his own puzzlement at the audience's reaction didn't show on his face.

Nedal simmered with anger. He would not be denied the sweetness of that lush mouth. It was his to do with as he pleased, the same as every other part of his Larat. All his. He suppressed his growl and relaxed into the cushions. Now was not the time to act. Not yet.

Sisryn took a deep breath and fully faced Chakotay. She didn't want to see the Voyager crew's response to her next words. "Now I must reveal to you, Larat, something that is not in the tome you studied. It is not listed among the duties because it *cannot* be refused. Privilege."

She paused and swallowed, then continued. "The crystal around your neck---indeed, that every Rutali minister must always wear---they are more than symbols of office or mere pieces of jewelry. They are gifts from the Celestials themselves, windows to the seal-bearer's bodies, minds, spirits, hearts." 

One hand rose to point at the larger gem above their heads. "All crystals are called Eyes of the Celestials, and the larger ones allow Rutali citizens access to the smaller, giving them insights into those who hold power over their prides."

The Chief Consul lowered her arm. "The Great Eyes reside in temples throughout the Rutali empire. Those who win the Privilege can rest a hand upon one and step into the body and soul of anyone who wears a crystal seal. They live as that person, hearing their thoughts, breathing their air, feeling with their nerves, seeing through their eyes." 

She stared at Chakotay. "In the past, when a Larat has been chosen, Privilege has been sought to live through the Regent. To experience the claiming, the many days and nights of service. The pleasure in the alien's surrender of will. That has also been true in this case, as Rutali clamor for the chance to take you, Chakotay, if only by proxy."

Now her eyes flicked over the crowd. "But you are unique as well. Always, people are assigned to live as the Larat, to monitor him or her. To ensure the Rutali are not betrayed by the one who has agreed to abide by our traditions." 

She turned back to peer deep into stunned brown eyes. "The Rutali assigned to watch over you became mesmerized by you, Chakotay. And that interest has overtaken the whole of our people. They are fascinated by you. With the way you find a balance between body and spirit, mind and soul. How you can both take control and yield it, be strong yet gentle, tread a path between conflict and peace, individuality and harmony. You are both predator and prey, blending the best of both."

Sisryn offered him an ironic lift of brows. "For the first time in our memory, as many people have bid for the Privilege of being the Larat as the Regent."

Chakotay's face reflected his horror. "So I have been spied on the entire time? Ever since I put on this thing?" He flicked the crystal, now feeling choked by its gold circlet. He sent a quick glance toward Tom. "You were there when I---"

"When you chose to act with honor and integrity. To do your best for your people by asking for help in learning new ways of passion." Her expression grew wistful. "And when you opened your heart to love."

The Rutali straightened her shoulders, throwing off some reverie. "Actually, I've only read reports of your activities. Those who wear the seals of office may not 'spy on' the Larat until the term of service has ended. Then they may relive any past experience they wish, the same as any other citizen."

Milady piped up, her voice not entirely hiding amusement. "Face it, Chakotay, you're going to be part of Rutali history. And from what I've heard, starring in a *lot* of people's fantasies. We'll be lucky the crystals don't wear out."

"Actually, Milady, you are more correct than you know." Nedal rose from his throne. The time had come. He waved Sisryn to her seat and faced the crowd fully, turning his back on his ministers and Chakotay. His voice rang across the room. "I have studied the history of Privilege. It springs from very ancient roots, from the time before the gifts of the Celestials were fully understood."

His eyes swept the room, lingering a moment on the Voyager crew. "In those early days, territorial wars raged between the prides. Hostages were often captured and held in thrall to the conqueror, as a guarantee of obedience by the defeated. At that time, the Privilege of possessing these Larats was literal. Those in servitude were passed hand-to-hand to be enjoyed by anyone the leader bestowed the favor upon."

Nedal stepped aside so Chakotay could be clearly seen. "I propose to return to that most venerable tradition. To offer you the chance to bid for the use of my Larat---when I myself have finished with him."

"No!" Harry leapt up instantly.

"You can't do that!" B'Elanna's shout was almost a roar.

"You bastard!" Tom launched himself forward, only to be shoved back by his Captain.

"This ends here and now!" Kathryn's decisive order cut through the air.

"Silence, you fools!" Sisryn's angry shout stopped them cold. She sank back into her seat. "You've walked right into his trap," she whispered. The tiny, dejected sound could easily be heard in the sudden silence.

Despair filled the four still standing as they realized what they had done. In speaking out to protest the injustice against Chakotay, they had handed Nedal the means to hurt him even more. Through them, or because of them. Four pairs of eyes begged forgiveness from the mute figure on the dais.

Chakotay tried to steady his breathing. He wasn't sure what the Regent had accomplished, but he knew that things did not bode well for him or his friends. He smiled at them sadly, and shrugged. He didn't blame them for losing control. They were only trying to stand up for a member of their family. The way they always did.

Nedal stepped down from the platform, strolling over to the quartet of aliens. "So, you offer challenge to my rule?"

"No, Regent. We were simply informing you that we wish to withdraw from the agreement. We will leave immediately, depart your orbit and continue our journey without the aid of your wormhole." Kathryn's voice was calm but her eyes were filled with contempt.

"I'm afraid that's not possible, my dear Captain." Nedal was practically purring. "You were warned that any interruption of the proceedings would be viewed as a challenge. So even if the contract between myself and the Larat ended at this moment, the four of you would still be headed into the arena to face my claws." 

He loomed over her and smiled. "My bare claws, since this is indeed a full affront to my sovereignty."

He ran his eyes over the others, lingering on the blond that once fired his dreams. Now he simply surveyed him like the rest, cataloging the human's weaknesses. He waved them to their seats. Then he nodded to himself and wandered back to the steps, ascending the platform to his throne. 

He paused before seating himself as if suddenly struck by a thought. "Of course, none of this is really your decision, Captain Janeway." He looked at Chakotay, triumph in his gaze. "All choices rest with the Larat."

"And what are those choices, my liege?" Chakotay kept his voice calm and expression serene, but inside he was shaking with anger at this selfish, self-important tyrant and fear for what would happen to his friends. He knew that as good as each of them were as fighters, they would be extremely vulnerable to an unrestrained Nedal. Too vulnerable. Chakotay couldn't risk their getting hurt or killed.

"It's very simple. You agree to fulfill your term of service, including *my* version of Privilege." He once again slid his eyes over the powerful form. "And you relinquish your refusals, one for each protest."

Chakotay stood, chin lifted and shoulders straight. "I accept your terms." He refused to look at Tom. He couldn't bear to see the love die in the bright gaze. He knew his siren had been hiding his struggles with the idea of Chakotay's time with Nedal. He couldn't expect the younger man to also forgive being supplanted by the dozens of Rutali Chakotay would now be compelled to "serve". 

Tears pricked Chakotay's eyes, but he forced them back. Once more, in his mind, he let Tom go. His gaze and voice were firm and completely steady as he faced Nedal. "That leaves me with one refusal. My condition for service is...no kissing."

Tom felt his soul shriveling. He could see Chakotay's battle to appear unmoved, but he also read the sorrow and resignation that glimmered deep in the dark eyes. His Titan was giving up their bond---on the idea that he and Tom had a future beyond this moment. Chakotay's refusal to let another pair of lips touch his own was clearly a sign that he wanted to keep the memory of their last kiss safe and unsullied in his memory. Because he didn't think he'd ever be granted another. 

Chakotay probably believed that Tom could never continue to have feelings for a person who whored himself on such a scale. He was so wrong.

Tom felt the fire still burning, sure and constant despite the suffocating weight of his own guilt and grief for being partly to blame for the current situation. And he knew that his acceptance of Chakotay on these or any other terms was a strength, not the weakness he had always feared. It was his choice, and he made it freely. Because he trusted that Chakotay's heart would be true. Would still be with him. Always.

And Tom had to tell him that before the chance slipped away forever. "Marry me, Chakotay," he called out. He didn't stand but kept his eyes firmly fixed on his Titan, willing him to trust, and believe. "I love you, and I'll be waiting for you. No matter what happens or how long you're here."

Chakotay stared at Tom, acutely feeling every millimeter that separated them. And yet he also felt the love in those blue eyes reaching across the distance, merging with the flame that he still kept safe in his own heart. The heart he knew would always be Tom's, along with his soul. Tom's crazy proposal and proud declaration sparked joy. And hope. And determination. Nedal would mean nothing to Chakotay. Nor would any of the others. Because they didn't mean anything to Tom. His siren was asking for trust, one last time. Of course Tom had it. He always would. The way he would always have Chakotay.

Chakotay nodded and gave Tom a smile that revealed all of his heart, uncaring who saw it. The smile shifted to a grin when he viewed Tom's answering smile, complete with blushing cheeks.

Nedal had been in shock during this exchange. He'd been so sure that Chakotay would not choose mere *kissing* as his refusal. Being denied those tempting lips filled him with rage at being thwarted. And to witness the exchange between the Larat he sought to conquer and the goband he once expected to claim hardened his resolve. These two would rue the day they thwarted the Regent of the Rutali Empire.

He spun toward the wall, seeking out Sisryn and Milady. "That is yet another challenge. It voids the final refusal. The Larat's kiss is *mine*."

"No!" Milady stood. "The human's proposal was not directed to you, nor did he seek to stop Chakotay from fulfilling his promise. The refusal stands."

Nedal gave a roar of frustration and grabbed Chakotay, yanking the dark head back. "Very well. You have chosen unwisely, Larat. Rest assured we will be exploring all aspects of pain. As well as restraint, sensory deprivation, and sexuality."

He glanced over his shoulder at the wincing Voyager crew. "You are dismissed, outsiders. Your Chakotay will be returned when his service to me---and all of my Privileged---is done." Nedal lifted his other hand and ran the claws down one cheek, scratching slightly. "Of course, he won't be nearly so pretty by the time I'm done."

Kathryn closed her eyes a moment, seeking calm. Then she stood and nodded to her people. They rose in dispirited unison and turned to leave, but jerked around at a sudden roar of "Enough!"

Sisryn looked down, as if shocked to find herself standing with chest heaving and fists clenched. Her eyes quickly scanned the room full of shocked-still listeners, then she took a step toward the Regent, who retained an unresisting Chakotay in his harsh grip. "Enough," she repeated, more quietly. "Chakotay will honor his agreement, Regent Nedal. You have read the same reports I did. Of how this man had the strength to refuse the offer of Tom Paris's body because he feared harming his beloved's soul. That he loves so deeply he was willing to set the object of those feelings free."

She moved closer, slipping her hand under the Regent's, pulling the claws away from the smooth bronzed cheek. She met Nedal's eyes. "You do not need to do this. Your Larat will serve you with passion, to the best of his ability. There is no reason for revenge. Abandon this mad scheme to taint the Celestials' tradition of Privilege. Restore Chakotay's refusals and abide by them."

"Do *you* seek to challenge me, Sisryn?" Nedal's was vibrating with barely-held anger.

"No, my liege. I am begging you to restore dignity to your reign. To walk the path that Chakotay has shown you. One of honor, and integrity. Of keeping true to one's beliefs, and being brave enough to sacrifice for the greater good. To know that these virtues are not found only in prey, but also in an enlightened predator---in Rutali. And that we will not be diminished by them."

Nedal's lip curled in a condescending sneer. "You have always been weak, Sisryn. And now you seek to taint me with these foolish, alien ideas."

He raked her with a despising look as he wrenched his hand from her light grip. "You are not even worth the trouble of cleaning my claws of your lifeblood. So I will agree, there was no challenge. You are sworn to *me*, Consul. I will not remind you again. You serve me, just as this Larat does. Now be silent and take your place." He dismissed her, turning away to focus on Chakotay again.

Chakotay gave Sisryn a grateful look but shook his head, trying to discourage her from making another protest. He was honored that she had so strongly identified with his ideals, but he didn't want her to end up paying a harsh penalty for her newfound sense of self. She ignored him.

"No." Sisryn's voice was louder now and full of conviction as she placed a hand over the crystal on her breast. "You leave me no choice but to end my service to such a selfish, corrupt ruler. You have twisted the Celestials' laws and traditions to suit your own petty desires. Cheated to further your own ends. And worse---ordered me to do the same. But no more."

She proclaimed, "I, Sisryn, do hereby resign my title and seal of Chief Consul. I renounce all claim to the benefits of my position, and abandon all oaths of service. I---"

"Wait, Sisryn, think carefully about this." Milady hurried over to the trio, anxiously searching the younger woman's face. "You will again be forced into the constant fights between the prides, for territory, for a mate, for your place in the empire. Are you certain you wish to expose yourself to that?"

"No, Milady, that's not what I'm going to do." Sisryn looked at her, then Nedal and finally Chakotay. "I will work for all of my people, not just a single pride and not just myself. I will fight only to defend myself, and never kill unless given no other choice. I will try to find the strength to be at peace within and without. To truly know that the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few."

"Or the one," Chakotay said softly. Despite the hold on his head, he conveyed his respect in a small nod and a warm, admiring gaze.

"Silence!" Nedal hissed, this time laying his claws along Chakotay's jaw. "You will be silent or I will tear that seditious tongue out by the roots." He flung Chakotay away from him and turned on Sisryn. He reached out and ripped her hand away from her seal. He grabbed it in his own and shouted, "I accept the resignation of Chief Consul Sisryn. She is stripped of all titles, properties, and rights. So is my decree as Regent of the Rutali Empire." He released the seal with snort of contempt.

The crystal around Sisryn's neck began to glow. Suddenly the gold circlet was not so solid. A link appeared and opened, but instead of dropping to the ground the object rose up to the Great Eye in the wall. When the crystals touched the smaller one was absorbed and the metal setting disappeared.

"It seems the Celestials also approved your resignation." Milady's mouth was a thin line of tension as she regarded the former Consul. "Take your place among the rabble, Sisryn."

The words broke the tableau. Captain Janeway shifted to make room for the Rutali while Chakotay regained his balance and Milady stepped up to Nedal. "What is your will, Regent?"

Nedal's narrowed eyes had followed his former Chief Consul's trek from the platform. He now swung back, his anger focusing on Chakotay. "I wish to give my subjects a full picture of what they will be bidding on." He slowly circled the human. Without warning, he set his claws into the gold cloth of Chakotay's vest. A moment later the garment fluttered in shreds to the floor. He moved to run those same sharp talons down the muscled back, leaving the faintest of scratches.

Chakotay took a deep breath and reached for strength and calm. Whatever happened, he would endure. And return to Tom.

Tom fixed his eyes on Chakotay, determined to offer his silent support throughout whatever ordeal awaited the man he loved.

Sisryn clenched her hands and wished she'd had the courage to truly challenge Nedal. The best that she could do for Chakotay now was bear witness and work to ensure such a travesty never happened again.

Nedal ended his musings, sheathing his claws and summoning a page with a jerk of his arm. "Go to the royal chamber. Bring me a set of cuffs and chains, and the heaviest whip available." He looked at Chakotay. "You won't have an inch of skin unscarred---external or internal---by the time I'm done." He growled, "You will beg for mercy, and for death. I will grant you neither."

"Fair warning, Regent," Milady said, "the Larat is not to be permanently damaged. That has *always* been part of Rutali law." 

Nedal chuckled. "I am the ruler here. I will do as I please. My Larat will not protest if he wishes to keep his friends safe and get his crew closer to home. He has no choice."

"But you do," Milady said. "Are you sure you will not rescind this decision?"

Nedal walked over to grab the whip that had just been brought to him. It was an ugly, thick thing. He cracked it, admiring the deep mark he left in the marble floor. He grabbed Chakotay's chin and again probed the dark eyes. They showed no fear. 

He released the human with a growl. "I *will* have my fill of revenge. As well as other forms of satisfaction, Milady. Do not ask me again."

Chakotay tried not to tense as he sensed Nedal step behind him. He knew that this would be nothing like the game he and Tom had played. He also had a strong suspicion that Nedal meant the public flogging to be followed by a very public fucking. /I doubt anyone will want to experience my perspective of *this*./ He closed his eyes and waited for the first blow to fall.

"So be it." Milady said raised both hands as *her* crystal began to glow. That small brightness was nothing compared to the similar light shining from the Great Eye above them. Her voice filled the room. "It has been generations since the Celestials have openly interfered in the affairs of their people. But this is a time of crisis, and change."

She looked at her leader. "Nedal, Regent of the Rutali Empire, you are hereby judged by the Celestials themselves. You are found unworthy of the title and seal you bear. They declare your reign ended forever, and set upon you the punishment of all who seek to corrupt the great strength of the Rutali prides with hatred, pettiness and greed."

Nedal froze at the apex of his strike, the length of leather dangling behind his raised hand. His seal started to glow, brighter and brighter. He dropped the whip and screamed, trying to tear the crystal from his chest or open the circlet. Instead, the crystal's radiance seemed to engulf him slowly as he continued to thrash, struggling to free himself from the expanding aura.

Chakotay had turned at the sound and now stared in silence with the others as the light completely covered the Regent's tall figure. With one last burst of brilliance he was gone, the glowing crystal floating in the air where he had stood.

Milady nodded and once more addressed the audience. "Nedal had been given fair warning. The Larat and the Regent have always been entwined. The Celestials designed them to be tests for one another. The Larat's crystal reveals the honor, or lack of same, in the aliens who come to our world and influence its people. That Nedal well knew."

She paused to sweep her eyes over the crowd, then continued. "What Nedal and everyone else has forgotten is that the bonding also serves the Rutali people. It determines the strength of the Regent's character. For the true test of power is in its moderation. And what better way to measure a leader's restraint than to gauge their actions toward someone who is completely at their mercy."

The elderly Rutali indicated the floating seal. "Nedal failed the test and has been punished accordingly. The Celestials have chosen a new Regent, one who will lead our people into a new age. One in which we find balance to our natures by embracing a measure of harmony and peace. These long-denied but long-desired qualities will meld with our strong and fierce natures, making us all that we have ever wished to be." She fell silent.

All eyes followed the gleaming necklace as it began to move. It stopped and hovered before Chakotay.

Tom felt his heart leap into his throat, and watched for the slightest shift of the crystal toward his beloved. Eventually it floated away from Chakotay. Tom's relieved sigh was echoed by seven others and the slight release of tension in the half-clothed figure on the dais.

Sisryn had sighed as well, but hers was tinged with disappointment. Then her eyes widened as the gleaming object sped up, flying swiftly to the bank of chairs. *Her* group of seats, in fact. And then it stopped directly before her. She stared at the glowing seal as if she had never seen it before. She looked at Milady. "I can't be---"

"It's yours." Milady said quietly but firmly. "The Celestials believe in you. That the ideals you have learned from these aliens will benefit the Rutali. They are sure that you are strong enough to meet the challenges ahead, whatever form they take." 

She gave her former fellow minister a fond smile. "All you have to do, Sisryn, is prove you are courageous enough to accept it."

Sisryn stood, straight and proud. She lifted her hands to grasp the seal. As she settled it around her neck the link dissolved into a solid circlet once more. She approached the steps and ascended. Milady's crystal and the Great Eye dimmed, their mission complete.

The new Regent's voice rang with confidence as she turned to address the waiting Rutali. "On behalf of all our people, I accept the seal of Regent. Know that the Celestials have chosen me to lead the prides on a new path." 

Her eyes traveled over them all. "Some of you will not like the journey, or approve of the destination. I challenge *you*. Organize your arguments, speak your mind, and if you truly believe you know better, face me in the arena."

Her smile was gentle, but still reflected the strength of her predator heritage. "I will listen to your concerns, and if you wish, accept your challenges to my authority. I give you fair warning that in combat I will show mercy, but I will *never* let you win."

The Rutali leapt to their feet as one, drawn into the moment, roaring and clapping approval of their new and very different Regent. The Voyager staff joined in the standing ovation, relief at this turn of events joining with their joy in Sisryn's change of status.

The gong sounded, ordering silence from the crowd. As it fell and the audience returned to their seats, Milady stepped forward. "What are your orders, my liege?"

Sisryn turned to Chakotay. For a brief moment her eyes absorbed the magnificence of *her* Larat. A hundred wild visions danced through her head, all of them involving sex and the beautiful creature before her.

Then she looked into Chakotay's waiting eyes and smiled ruefully. "I know you would serve me well, Chakotay, gifting me with both your tenderness and passion." She sighed. "But it is not to be. I cannot stand in the way of the love I have seen grow between you and Tom. Not when I hope one day to be blessed with such a bond myself."

She turned toward the aliens and Rutali and lifted a hand, indicating the anxiously observing blond. "Tom Paris has pledged his troth to my Larat, and Chakotay has accepted. I will not diminish that by indulging in the personal service outlined in tradition." 

A wondering, disappointed murmur rippled through the crowd and faded. Sisryn continued, "Instead, I invite Chakotay's mate, Tom Paris, to join his beloved on Ruta until such time as the Chosen is released."

"Damn. There go the profits from *your* Privilege." Milady said regretfully, but her eyes approved of her new leader's actions. Her gaze then roamed over Chakotay's half-naked body as she considered. "Of course, the increased bids for the Larat's experiences will no doubt compensate for much of it."

Her eyes glinted with mischief as she looked pointedly at Tom. "And if we could rustle up another seal and title for GoldenBoy, we'd get both sides of their encounters. I'm sure it would be well worth the effort."

Tom gulped and opened his mouth to protest until he caught the amused glances of the two women. He could hear his friends chuckling around him as he blushed. /Geez, Chakotay was right. It *is* contagious./ He was about to duck his head and try to scrunch into his seat to hide when he caught sight of Chakotay. 

The fire in his Titan's brown eyes spanned the space between them to wrap him in the warmth of love, and tease his imagination with thoughts of passion.

Tom began to realize what an opportunity he was being given. A vacation in a luxurious palace with nothing to do but spend time with the man he loved. His eyes glowed with their own rekindled interest as he grinned from ear to ear. He turned to his Captain. "Permission to stay on the planet, ma'am?"

"Denied!" Milady blurted as her seal and the Great Eye sparked to life again. She looked at Sisryn. "Regent, your generosity and integrity have confirmed the Celestials' choice. No more lessons need be learned." 

She nodded toward Chakotay's seal, which glowed and transformed. The link opened and the necklace slid away to hover in the air a moment, then disappear.

"It has returned to its resting place to await the next Larat." Milady briskly stepped up to the human. "You are released from your service, Chakotay. Your things have been returned to your ship, and all of your crew must immediately depart as well. The wormhole will open the moment you are aboard."

Chakotay gaped at the woman. "You mean that's it? My tenure is done?" He couldn't quite believe it after all his preparations. Of course, he was also greatly relieved that he wouldn't have to cheat on Tom at all.

"Yes. You've had the shortest, but most exciting, time on Ruta of any Larat I've seen. Another one for the history books." Milady chuckled, then sobered. "Rest assured, Chakotay, you have passed your tests and served both our peoples well."

"Thank you," he replied. He took her hand and raised it for a kiss. "And farewell."

Milady simply nodded and watched as Chakotay turned and approached Sisryn.

The new Regent was blinking back tears. She knew she had never had a chance with this man, but she still was saddened by thoughts of what might have been. "Good-bye, Chakotay," she said as she offered him her hand as well.

Chakotay clasped the slender, tawny fingers, then looked into the brimming golden eyes. "I will never forget you, Sisryn." He leaned in to kiss her very gently on the lips, trying to convey gratitude, friendship, loss...and love. Just not the kind the beautiful and brave woman deserved. 

When they parted he raised his other hand to cradle her cheek. "May you find a mate who is worthy of you, Sisryn. A match in body, mind, and spirit."

They simply nodded then, wishing each other well. Then Chakotay turned and descended the steps to stand with his crew. As Kathryn raised her hand to signal for a beamout Milady interrupted her.

"Remember this also: the Larat and his mate must stay on the bridge from the moment you leave here until you exit the wormhole." At the puzzled glances that greeted her announcement she shrugged and said, "I'm just the messenger. You'll have to ask the Celestials why they gave that order." 

She waved her hand and the aliens disappeared in a white gleam. All of the crystals quieted once more.

"I'm sorry to see them go," Sisryn said, moving to stand beside Milady.

"Yes I concur,” Milady grinned. “Especially now that I know exactly what Chakotay looked like as a Larat."

"Milady!" Sisryn's scandalized gaze was met with an unrepentant shrug.

"I may be old---but not dead. Besides, I've got a bid in for Privilege myself." She waggled her eyebrows at the Regent, then lightly grasped the younger woman's arm. "Come on. If you're going to keep that seal you'll have to learn to hold your liquor, and this day certainly calls for a celebration."

Sisryn stopped as her eyes narrowed. "Is there something you haven't told me? Just *what* are we celebrating, exactly?" 

"My retirement," Milady said with satisfaction. She looked Sisryn up and down. "Not immediately, mind you. You need some seasoning and being Regent for a decade or so should do it. But at least now I know I'll still be spry enough to enjoy my time off once I get it."

"I'm supposed to succeed *you*?" Sisryn hadn't thought there could be yet another surprise this day.

"Yes. Of course, *you'll* be stuck with that awful title I abandoned years ago." She poked Sisryn's ribs with an elbow. "Emissary."

************************************************************

Kathryn had to admit she had a spectacular view. The wormhole had opened practically the second Tom sat at the Conn. They'd sped toward the graceful, shimmering opening in the blackness of space and glided through.

Now they were traveling through a tunnel of light. The shifting colors threw patterns against the walls of the bridge and people's faces.

Of course, the viewscreen wasn't the only place to rest her eyes. Chakotay was still dressed in the sandals and clingy gold trousers that were all that was left of his Larat outfit. And he had chosen to stand near Tom, behind and slightly to the right of the pilot's chair, one hand resting on his lover's shoulder in a silent gesture of support.

/Well *I'm* certainly not going to tell him to sit down. Besides, his chair is taken./ She turned to her left to smile at Ken, glad that her First Officer had taken it upon himself to invite the ex-Maquis to the bridge. She reached over and grasped Ken's hand, giving it an excited squeeze.

Ken met his beloved's shining gaze and also smiled. He raised the delicate fingers to his mouth and kissed them lingeringly, then lowered their clasped hands to the armrest.

Tom kept an eye on the viewscreen and his console, but his body was busy absorbing the warmth of the hand on his shoulder and the faint hints of Chakotay's scent that teased his nostrils. He needed the reassurance that his lover was with him, safe and sound. He sighed and finally released the tension of the last few hours.

Chakotay heard the sigh and gave a comforting squeeze. He was still a little dazed at the turn of events, but filled with joy at the thoughts of a future with the man seated before him. He didn't even try to suppress his smile as he continued to watch the wormhole's soft glow. Then he frowned as his inner timeclock made some calculations. "Haven't we been in here an awfully long time?" he asked.

"One hour, 19 minutes," Harry immediately reported. He looked up with barely concealed eagerness. "That's a good sign, isn't it?"

"As we have no tables correlating distance traveled with time inside the phenomenon, Ensign Kim, it would be wise not to speculate," Tuvok said dispassionately.

"Well, I for one am hoping we at least end up somewhere friendly," B'Elanna said from the engineering station. "It would be too ironic if this thing dumped us in the middle of a war zone."

"There is no evidence to suggest that such an event will occur." Seven turned from her console to send a cool glance toward the half-Klingon. "Unless I have not been given access to all data."

"No, no, Seven, I think B'Elanna's just keeping the worst-case scenario in mind. Being prepared for anything is always a good way to approach an unknown situation." Neelix gave both ladies a placating smile from where he hovered at the back of the bridge.

Ken lifted his brows at Kathryn as if to ask, "Are they always like this?" She just shook her head at him and rolled her eyes.

Tom and Chakotay smiled at each other, comforted by the everyday sounds of the senior staff's good-natured bickering. Then they were suddenly alone. Tom was standing next to Chakotay and they were surrounded by the pulsing light of the wormhole itself.

"We are pleased," a pseudo-Sisryn said as she appeared in the glow, walking around the men. "You have served us well."

"You will be rewarded," a fake Milady stepped forward, peering at the humans with her wise old eyes. "The Larat and his mate will be free. Free to live. Free to love."

"Our kin have agreed. Your path will lead to their door. They have contacted their Chosen. You will be free. He will make it so." This Nedal looked at them blankly, neither anger nor hunger in his gaze.

Tom had barely gotten the chance to glance at Chakotay's equally puzzled face before they were back on the bridge. He opened his mouth to comment but the flash of his console caught his eye. "The wormhole exit is coming up. Ten seconds."

The entire crew held its breath as Voyager left the tunnel of light and was surrounded once more by the eternal night of space.

Chakotay immediately called, "Harry, where are we?" He felt Tom's hand reach up to grasp his own.

"We're---I can't believe it---we're home." Harry's voice and expression held awe as he looked up to meet stunned faces. "Somehow we ended up in the *Bajoran* wormhole. We're just a few minutes from Deep Space Nine."

Before anyone had a chance to absorb the incredible news, Harry snapped to attention. "A Federation ship is coming to meet us, Captain." He stared at his readouts, then stated, "It's the Defiant. They're hailing us."

"Open a channel, Mr. Kim." Kathryn stood and walked to the front of the bridge, taking up a position beside Chakotay. She smiled delightedly at the man who appeared on the screen. "Commander---Pardon me, *Captain* Sisko," she said as she noted the extra pip. "What can we do for you today?"

Benjamin Sisko smiled at the crew who were about to fly into Starfleet's history books. "You can accept my welcome home, Captain Janeway. I was told to expect you." He shook his head. "But I still can't believe it." 

He leaned back in his chair. "You can also tell me what you've been up to these last four years. How the Prophets knew you were coming. How you managed to get full pardons for your crew from Starfleet before we were even sure you still existed. How a ship stranded in the Delta Quadrant exits a wormhole that originates in the Gamma. But most importantly---" Now his eyes gleamed with an interested light as they swept over Chakotay's half-clad form, "---why your First Officer is so dazzlingly out of uniform."

Chakotay blushed, while Tom shifted to the right, trying to block some of what Sisko was so appreciatively gazing upon. "Where are all those beige sacks when you need one," Tom muttered, dropping his hand.

Chakotay heard the comment and gave Tom's shoulder a last squeeze before he dropped his hand as well. He stepped forward a little. "If I may, Captains. The answer to most of your questions is simple. Our being here is a strange and wonderful gift from Delta Quadrant entities very similar to the Bajoran Prophets."

He decided to set Tom's mind at ease as he continued, "It's a long story. And I'm sorry if my attire has given you the wrong impression. You see, as thrilled as I am to be home, it's still only the second-best present that I've ever received. The first is the love of the man beside me." He smiled at Tom as he finished.

Tom turned, surprised at Chakotay's unexpected candor. He was stunned the second he saw Chakotay's face. The love was again openly revealed. Fire burned in the dark eyes, surrounding him and drawing him in. He unconsciously set the autopilot as he rose from his chair and wrapped his arms around his beautiful Titan. "Thank you."

"I love you." Chakotay whispered in return, and kissed Tom with all of the tenderness and passion and trust in his soul.

Tom opened his mouth, melting into Chakotay the way he always did. The way he knew he always would.

Kathryn shook her head at Sisko's flabbergast face. She smiled fondly at the entwined pair as she spoke the thought on everyone's minds. "These two are hopeless. Absolutely hopeless."

THE END

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are welcomed with great joy and constructive criticism treasured as a rare gift.


End file.
